Haunted
by Daring Duo
Summary: A tag to Phantoms in which John is haunted by lingering effects of the Wraith device.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE:** We're ba-a-a-a-ck. This is a Phantoms tag that begins shortly after they get back to Atlantis. We hope you enjoy! Obviously there are spoilers for Phantoms.

**Disclaimer: **Neither of us owns any part of Stargate Atlantis or its characters, we just wish we did.

**HAUNTED - Part 1**

John was tired. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt as tired as he did now. His body felt almost sluggish, his head ached, his stomach felt twisted into knots and yet he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Getting through the debrief with Elizabeth had been tough. Keeping focused on her and on what he was saying had made John's head hurt. After a time she took his distraction as concern for Rodney, going so far as to contact Beckett and ask him about Rodney's condition. John had been glad to learn that Rodney was fine and sleeping. After all, the gun shot wound had been a deep graze and not life threatening.

Making himself focus after that, John had made it through the debriefing, promising Elizabeth that he would give her more details in his report. Or rather, as much detail as he could. He wasn't about to tell her about his hallucinations. That was information she didn't need to know beyond the bare minimum.

That John hadn't been alone in his hallucinations didn't make him feel better. He knew Ronon would deal with what happened just fine and Rodney had seemed almost fascinated by it. Carson was feeling messed up, that John had clearly seen and he thought maybe he'd try and talk to the Doc about it sometime. Maybe. Right now all he wanted to do was shower and make an attempt at sleeping.

To that end, John made it to his room. He had just stripped down to step into the shower when his ear piece beeped. John grabbed it and wasn't all that surprised to find Carson on the other end. "How's it going, Doc?" John asked.

"You tell me, Colonel," Carson replied. "Are you all right?"

"Peachy." It was an automatic response and John was glad Beckett wasn't there to see him rubbing his temples. He needed a double dose of Tylenol something fierce.

"You're supposed to stop in for your post mission check, Colonel," Carson stated. "I'm waiting on you."

John heaved a sigh. "Can we do it in the morning? I'm halfway in the shower and ready to crawl into bed." He figured if he added the bed part, Beckett would let him off the hook.

But no such luck. "You'll come in or I'll come there," Carson replied, firmly. "Your choice, Colonel."

"Give me fifteen minutes," John countered. "I need a shower first."

"Fifteen minutes," Carson allowed. "But if you blow me off I will send Ronon to fetch you." That said, the Scotsman clicked off.

"Great," John muttered to himself, setting the radio aside. He headed into the bathroom and turned the water on. A moment later he stepped under the hot spray and felt some of the weariness washing away. Sadly, it didn't last. By the time he got out, dried off and pulled on sweat pants and a t-shirt, John was swaying on his feet. He actually felt a bit dizzy and caught himself with a hand on the wall. Nausea followed the dizziness and he ended up on his knees next to the toilet, but he didn't puke, he just gagged up some bile.

John figured there was nothing to bring up since he couldn't remember the last time he ate. Not that he was hungry. The pounding ache in his temples made just the thought of food nauseating. Rising to his feet, John made his way to the sink and rinsed his mouth before brushing his teeth. He checked his reflection and winced. Carson was going to know by looking at him that he felt like shit, but there was nothing for it. John knew he had to go to the infirmary or Carson would follow through on his threat and send Ronon to get him.

Cursing to himself, John sat down to pull on socks and sneakers. He thought about changing into uniform pants or jeans, but figured it wasn't worth the bother. He wasn't on duty and he didn't intend to be long in the infirmary. A quick check and he'd be back in his room, not sleeping. Although maybe he could get Beckett to give him something without being too obvious about it.

Rising to his feet, John felt a head rush and sat back down till it passed. He knew he needed to eat something and maybe he'd grab a bite after his exam. A bit of food and some sleep and he'd be better. Rising again, John felt more steady so he headed out. He made it to the infirmary without further complications and he grimaced to see Beckett hovering in the doorway, waiting for him.

"I told you I'd come," John said, feeling a bit irritated when Beckett grabbed his arm and practically dragged him over to the corner bed.

"You've lied before," Carson responded, patting the bed for John to sit.

"Not intentionally," John shot back. "I'd just get sidetracked by things sometimes." It was a weak protest but he felt compelled to make it. A hand on his back nudged him towards the bed and John pulled himself on to it. He had to resist the urge to pout while Carson did his thing.

While taking John's pulse, Carson tutted a bit. 

That made John nervous. "What?" he demanded.

"A bit thready," Carson replied. He grabbed his pen light, gripped John by the chin and shone his light in his eyes. He didn't look happy when John winced and tried to pull away. "Headache?"

"Just a little one. Nothing a couple of aspirin won't cure." John plastered a fake smile on his face as he spoke and tried to look sincere. He was pretty sure he failed. Then Carson was checking his heart and lungs before turning away to scribble on his chart. John took the opportunity to slide off the bed, only he kept going, hitting the floor when his knees buckled. 

He heard Carson call his name, then the lights went out.

**THE END...of part one**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **Thanks for the reviews and the warm welcome back. Hold on for some Shep whumping in the next few chapters, cause that's what we do.

**HAUNTED - Part 2**

Sounds began filtering in slowly, but surely. Clinking of metal trays, a cart rolling, footsteps across the floor, voices fading in and out. He heard movement that was close, bringing him further toward wakefulness and he tried to focus in on the familiar voice.

" . . . dehydration and exhaustion. Now combine that with whatever that bloody machine was doing to our minds, the trauma of the hallucinations, and knowing he shot his best friend and you have a mess."

"Bottom line, Carson, will he be all right?" He couldn't miss the concern in Elizabeth's voice.

"Aye, he's pretty resilient, thank goodness. Some rest, some fluids, and some food and I think he'll bounce back in a day or two. Now as to his mental status, that may take a bit longer. He relived some pretty horrific events, I'm told, and he still has to deal with shooting Rodney. It would help if Rodney would quit saying, "He shot me," every five minutes or so."

"Speak of the devil, is Rodney still doing okay?"

John couldn't help but smile a bit at Elizabeth's reference, even though everything else made him feel like banging his already aching head against a wall.

"Rodney will be fine, but he'll be staying here for a few days, God help us. The wound was deep and we're watching for infection."

John brought his hand up to rub his face, feeling the IV about the same time he saw it. He should have expected it after hearing Carson's reference to dehydration. His head still felt like someone had backed over it with a bus and he focused on massaging his forehead for a few seconds. Hearing a sound near his bed, he dropped his arm and opened his eyes to see Elizabeth and Carson looking down at him.

"Colonel, how long have you been awake?" asked Carson, frowning at him.

John took a deep breath, hoping to clear the fog that seemed to have surrounded his head. "Not long . . . think I woke up somewhere around dehydration and exhaustion. I did hear the part about going to be okay, though."

Elizabeth patted his arm. "Yes, you and Rodney will both be fine. We were lucky."

John stared at the ceiling. "Yeah, lucky Teyla was there or we'd probably all be dead. I certainly did my part helping that along."

"I think I did my share as well, colonel," said Carson softly. Carson looked at the floor while John continued to look sadly at the ceiling panels.

"Okay, now stop this, both of you. You were under a mind control device that made you have hallucinations. It was not your fault, either of you. Blame the Wraith for setting it up and blame the Genii for screwing it up, but not yourselves or each other. That's an order."

John and Carson both looked at Elizabeth and saw the fire dancing in her eyes. This was one of those times when she meant what she said. And realistically, when they thought about it, she was right.

"Look," said John. "I know what you are saying is true, but I just can't get past the fact that I shot them. I just keep thinking I should have known it wasn't real, I should have seen that it was my teammates out there. It may take a little while to pound that into my thick skull, you know, after the guy that's pounding away right now gets done."

Carson perked up and looked down at John. "You still have a headache?"

John grimaced. "Wall banger of one. I wouldn't mind if you gave me a bit of one of your special cocktails before my eyes actually shoot out of my head."

Carson was startled at his patient's honesty about the level of pain he was in. He was so used to "I'm good," and "I'm fine," that when the colonel asked for pain medication of any kind, he worried. He could tell that Elizabeth was concerned too.

"I'll get you something for that." Carson left the bedside and Elizabeth reached down and squeezed his hand.

"From what Carson's said, you should feel better soon. Get some rest and do what your doctor says and you'll be back on your feet in no time."

John would have nodded, but the headache convinced him anything that involved head movement probably wasn't a good idea right now. Carson returned and emptied a syringe into his IV port. He was grateful when he felt the pain beginning to dull a short time later.

"Better?" asked Carson, worry in his face.

"Yeah, thanks doc." John felt his eyelids pulling closed. He was barely aware of the shuffle of feet on the floor as he let consciousness slide away.

Carson led Elizabeth to the door of the infirmary. "He should sleep the rest of the night and that's the best thing for him."

Elizabeth looked at Rodney, sleeping two beds down. She shuddered at the thought of John actually killing Rodney. Besides the obvious loss to Atlantis and her loss of a friend, she knew John would never have been able to forgive himself. She would have lost two friends if that had happened. She hugged her arms close around her, thankful that it hadn't.

"They'll be all right, both of them," said Carson, as if he could read her mind.

"I know, and for that I'm thankful. Are you or Ronon having headaches like John?"

Carson sighed and rubbed his jaw. "I've had a wee bit of one since before we left the planet. It's not nearly as bad as what the colonel has and I attributed it to stress and lack of sleep. I suspect Ronon is the same, although he hasn't said anything."

Elizabeth nodded. "You need to get some rest as well Carson. You won't do them any good if you pass out cold on the floor."

Carson smiled, touched at her concern. "I know. I'm about to turn it over and go get some sleep myself. Just a few loose ends to tie up first."

Elizabeth let her eyes find Teyla, sleeping in the bed on the far side of Rodney's. "What about Teyla? How's her leg?"

Carson followed her line of sight to his third patient. "She'll be fine. I'm keeping her tonight for observation and to get some fluids into her, but I'll probably release her to her quarters tomorrow with some crutches and orders to stay off that leg."

"John's right, we really are lucky she was there," she said quietly before turning back to Carson. "Well, I'd better get out of your hair so you can get everything done. I'll check back in the morning."

Carson nodded and watched her leave, then shuffled across the infirmary to leave instructions for the night staff.

oOo

_John wiped the sweat from his brow and then tightened his grip on Holland. "Let's move, those Taliban forces are closing in." With one hand around Holland's waist and the other hanging onto the man's arm slung over his shoulder, John began moving them across the sand. The sun bore down on them and he felt the tickle of sweat running down his neck and back. With no free hands to wipe it away, he chose to ignore it._

_Gunfire suddenly kicked up the sand around him and he dropped Holland to the ground, kneeling as he scanned the horizon for the source. Three Taliban topped the sand dune ahead of them began making their way down it as they fired. John began firing back, only to have someone from behind him open fire on him and Holland. He quickly turned, but almost dropped his gun at the sight of two Wraith dressed in Taliban clothing approaching them._

"_What the . . . " He lifted his gun and fired first one direction and then the other. Somehow he managed to stop them all without getting hit once and he stood, eyes wide in amazement. Walking over to the group of three, he turned the first body over, only to discover it was Rodney. Looking down at the other two, he was horrified to see it was Ronon and Beckett. He dropped to his knees and let out a yell of pain, the shock of killing his team stabbing him in ways knives or bullets never could._

"Colonel Sheppard? Please wake up now, colonel, please."

The pleading female voice managed to pull his attention away and the sand vanished into the infirmary. John blinked slowly as he processed the scene around him. He was sitting on the floor, his IV ripped out and a nearby table turned over. A nurse sat on either side of him holding his arms, while another seemed to be trying to calm a panicking McKay in the bed a few feet away.

"What happened?" he asked sluggishly. His head pounded relentlessly and he felt dizzy and hot. The two nurses relaxed their grip and relief crossed their faces.

"Colonel, are you all right now?" The nurse with the long blonde hair rubbed his shoulder lightly as she talked, obviously trying to soothe him.

"I'm fine." He looked up at her sheepishly. "Nightmare?"

She nodded. "Apparently a bad one. You were talking to someone named Holland and then you just bolted from the bed and started yelling. We thought someone had died."

John looked at the floor and rubbed his face. "So did I," he whispered.

"It's not enough you have to shoot me, but do you have to wake me up in the middle of the night screaming like a banshee? You scared me out of ten years." McKay was pushed up part way on his elbows to get a better view of the target of his anger. The nurse was getting annoyed as she tried to push him back into bed.

"Dr. McKay, if you don't lay back I'll be forced to call Dr. Beckett."

McKay lay back with a sigh and a groan. "Oh, that's right, threaten to tattle. How mature. What is this, kindergarten?"

The nurse sighed and shook her head as she tucked his covers back around him. "Apparently," she muttered.

Teyla was now awake and watching from the adjacent bed. "Rodney, you know the colonel would never do anything to harm you on purpose. He is obviously very troubled by the events on the planet."

Rodney waved his hand at her. "Yes, yes, I know. I just wish he wouldn't scare me like that."

Teyla grimaced. "I'm sure it was not fun for him either."

The two nurses at John's side helped him to his feet and then held onto him as the headache spiked and his vision grayed for a few moments. One of them was talking to him, but he felt like he had cotton in his ears and the sounds were muffled. Once his vision cleared up, his hearing did as well.

"Come on, colonel, let's get you back to bed." John allowed himself to be shuffled back into bed, feeling almost disjointed from his body except for the headache. He was vaguely aware of one of the nurses putting the IV into the back of his other hand, while placing a band-aid on the hand he'd ripped the original IV out of.

"There you go, colonel, good as new," she said cheerfully. John brought his knees up to relieve the growing pressure in his stomach as nausea began to churn. The headache kept getting worse. As the pain in his head kept growing, he seemed to be getting hotter and those two things fed into increasing the nausea. He finally rolled over onto his side and curled up, kicking the covers off and panting against the discomfort.

Rodney watched the colonel's increasing distress with a worried eye. "Colonel, are you okay?" he finally whispered, wondering where the nurses had disappeared to and why none of them were helping Sheppard.

John's response was so soft, Rodney almost didn't hear it. "No, Rodney . . . I'm not."

Rodney realized that was probably the scariest thing John Sheppard had ever said to him.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE: **You guys are great! Thanks for the continued support.

**HAUNTED - Part 3**

John lost his battle against the nausea, lifting up just enough to heave over the side of the bed. Every - gagging - heave made his head hurt worse, which fed into the nausea, which made him retch more until he wished he could just slide into oblivion. Eventually he heard Carson's familiar voice, although he couldn't make out what the Doc was saying. John wished he could stop puking long enough to beg Carson to knock him out. Then he felt it, a coolness seeping through his veins that soon turned into warmth, then drew him into blessed darkness.

Carson studied John for a long time after the nurses got him cleaned up and settled more comfortably. He took his vitals, frowned over them, then sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was worried.

"Carson?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, Carson turned and made his way over to Rodney's bed. "You should be sleeping," he chided.

Rodney made a face at him. "Hard to do with Sheppard freaking out then all that puking." He turned a bit pale as he spoke, nose twitching.

"I can give you something to help you sleep," Carson replied, already making a move to head towards the meds cabinet. But he stopped when Rodney gripped his sleeve, frowning as he realized his friend looked worried. "What's wrong?" Carson asked.

"Is Sheppard going to be okay?" Rodney's eyes flickered over to the Colonel's bed as he spoke.

"I hope so." Carson was beginning to wonder just what was going on with the man. No one else had been affected the same way and Carson wasn't sure if his problem was strictly physical. Which was another worry in itself.

Rodney plucked at his bedcovers for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something but not sure how to say it. Which was odd for the physicist who usually just blurted everything out. "He...um...Sheppard...he said something to me," Rodney finally mumbled.

Carson raised an eyebrow at that. "What did he say?" He had a feeling it was important.

"I asked him if he was okay and he said he wasn't." Rodney lifted his head to lock eyes with Carson. "He never says that."

"He's just feeling poorly right now." Carson didn't like the sound of that himself, but he didn't want Rodney getting all riled up about it either. "Look, just stop throwing it in his face that he shot you every five minutes. Sheppard has enough to deal with right now. Okay?"

Rodney had the grace to look a bit guilty. "Fine. Whatever," he countered, sinking down into his bed. "I'm going back to sleep." He made a show of closing his eyes.

Carson patted him on the shoulder. "Sweet dreams, Rodney." Then he moved back to Sheppard's bedside. The Colonel looked pale and restless in spite of the drugs Carson had given him. He was just about to grab a chair to keep vigil when Ronon appeared beside him, giving Carson a start. Hand clasped over his chest, Carson glared at the Satedan. "What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"

"I came to sit with Sheppard," Ronon announced, his usual rumble softened a bit in deference to the late hour.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Carson chided him.

A shrug was Ronon's response, then he took the chair from Carson and made a point of moving it to Sheppard's bedside and sitting down. "I slept, now I'll keep watch."

Arguing with the man would have taken more time and energy than Carson felt capable of, so he gave in and nodded. "I'll be in my office," he announced. He had a cot there and he was used to sleeping on it. "Call me if you need me."

"Sure." Ronon was watching Sheppard as he spoke.

"Goodnight," Carson said, then he drifted away. But sleep was hard to come by.

OoO

John felt like he was being watched. It gave him a creepy feeling and he peeled open sleep heavy eyes to find out who was there. He was a bit surprised to find Ronon staring at him. John was about to ask why he was there when a tickle hit the back of his throat and he started coughing. Which made his head hurt and his chest feel tight and he almost started gagging when strong hands lifted him then a straw touched his lips.

"Just a sip," Carson was saying.

Between coughs, John managed to get a sip or two and the water eased the tickle after a time and he felt himself laid back against his pillows. He closed his eyes and willed the ache in his head to recede. A part of him wondered if this was what a migraine felt like. He'd had an aunt who'd suffered from them and John still remembered, from when he was a kid, how she would disappear to lie down in a dark room when they hit her. She had died when he was thirteen.

He wondered why he was thinking about that now and realized Carson was talking to him. "Wha..at?" he croaked out.

"How are you feeling?" Carson asked, looking worried. He was checking John's vitals as he asked.

"Tired," John replied, because he couldn't see any reason to lie about it. It wasn't like he was doing a good job at faking being okay. Nor did he have the energy to pretend otherwise. This headache was kicking his ass.

After scribbling something on John's chart, Carson moved to face him. "I have to admit I'm a wee bit worried about you right now, Colonel. To the point where I'd like to run some tests to see if we can determine what's causing the headaches."

John didn't like the sound of tests and he said as much. "Look, I'm just tired. Okay? No tests." Tests were long and tiring and he just wanted to curl up, doped to the gills, and sleep for a week.

"I don't think we have a choice here," Carson persisted.

"I'm tired and hungry," John shot back. He was realistic to know he needed food, even though he felt ill just thinking about eating. But if it would get him out of the tests, then he'd shovel in whatever Carson gave him. "Just...I'll eat and sleep a bit more and if I'm not better after that you can run your tests." A part of John knew he'd end up with the tests, but there was that ornery part of him that wouldn't just give in.

Although he didn't look happy, Carson nodded. "All right, I'll let you try it your way. I'll send for some toast and we'll see how you do."

John felt relief wash over him. "I need to use the bathroom." It had just occurred to him his bladder was full.

"Do you feel up to walking?" Carson was giving him a choice, although he looked ready to grab the urinal.

"I can walk." He'd crawl if he had too. Pushing back the covers, John slid out of bed and let Carson grip his arm to steady him. The pounding in his temples increased with his motions, and a wave of dizziness hit John like a two by four.

Carson was trying to get him to sit down. "I think a urinal would be a better idea," he stated.

"No!" John's tone was soft, in deference to his head, but fierce. "I'm not sick or an invalid, I can walk to the bathroom." Gritting his teeth, he pulled away from Carson and headed off in what he hoped was the right direction. Only to be pulled up short by Carson.

"You have to take your IV with you," the Scotsman scolded him. "Hold up just a moment, son. I'll unhook it and you can carry it with you. Easier than a pole."

John had forgotten about the IV. He waited till Carson was ready, then he took the bag and made his way to the bathroom, the Doc hovering at his side all the way. Once there, John shut Carson out and took care of business. He then washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. But he didn't see the reflection of the man he was now. Instead he saw a face that was sunburned, hair dusted with sand, eyes dark and weary. The face of the man who hadn't been able to save Holland.

Turning away from the image, John grabbed his IV bag and took a step towards the door, only to find himself spiraling into a flash of blinding white light.

**THE END...of part 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE: **The reviews are awesome and you guys are terrific!! I get to do my daily happy dance. HUGS to all of you!!!

**HAUNTED - Part 4**

As soon as Carson heard the thump, he knew what had happened. "Colonel? Colonel Sheppard, are you all right?" The silence was disheartening, although not unexpected. "Why didn't I just make you use the bedpan?" he muttered to himself. Carson tried to push the door open, only to find Sheppard lying against it. He managed to wedge it open a few inches, just enough to see the colonel. He kneeled on the floor and reached his hand in, only just able to touch Sheppard on the shoulder.

"Colonel?" He nudged him as best he could, but got no reaction from the unconscious man. "Bloody, heck . . . "

"Doc, can I help?"

Carson looked up at Ronon, standing beside the door peering down at him in confusion. "Uh, yes, thank you, Ronon. The colonel seems to have passed out and is blocking the door." Carson was never sure why the door to the bathroom opened in instead of sliding to the side like the rest of the city doors.

"Move back out of the way," commanded the Satedan.

Carson got up and moved back, slightly afraid of what the big man was planning. "He's ill, you know, so you can't just slam the door open against him."

Ronon just smiled at the doctor, knowingly. "I know. Get ready to shove the door open when I say." He kneeled in the doorway and managed to get both arms through the small opening.

Carson could tell he was lifting, but he had to be doing it totally with his arm strength because there was no way to brace himself. He heard Ronon grunt, but whether from pain or exertion, he couldn't tell.

"Okay, open the door."

Carson pushed on the door and it barely slid by Sheppard as Ronon held him up and away from the door. As soon as the door was clear, Ronon eased Sheppard back down to the floor and Carson kneeled down beside the pilot. Carson was taking Sheppard's pulse when he moaned and his head lolled to one side.

"Colonel? Can you hear me?"

John's lids fluttered open and he lay there, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

Carson patted pilot's cheek and leaned over close to his face. "Colonel, I need to know if you can hear me and respond?"

John blinked a few times and then seemed to shift his gaze to Carson's face. "Doc?"

Carson sighed and nodded, sitting back as he did. "Yes, colonel, it's me. I'm afraid you've passed out in the bathroom. We need to get you back to bed. Do you think you can walk if we help you?"

John's eyes still didn't look focused as he blinked repeatedly. "Sure, doc," he said, his voice slurred and his eyes rolling around as if looking for something to concentrate on.

Carson didn't look convinced, but glanced at Ronon. "Can you give me a hand?"

Ronon nodded. "Sure."

Carson sighed as he looked down at his patient. He reached down and grabbed Sheppard's arm with Ronon taking the other. They slid Sheppard up to a sitting position, his back against the toilet.

"Whoa, not so fast . . . dizzy," slurred Sheppard as he listed to one side. Carson pushed him back upright and then held him there.

"Take it easy, we'll let you get your bearings before we continue." Carson began probing Sheppard's head while the man tried to focus his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, wincing as he tried to pull away from the doctor's touch.

Carson dropped his arm and looked over at Ronon. "He's got a nice bump on the side of his head. Must have hit it when he fell. I hope that doesn't complicate matters further." He glanced down at his patient, squinting as he looked up at the physician. "Are you ready, colonel?"

"Sure," mumbled Sheppard, his eyes still darting around, illustrating his disorientation. "Let's get back to the party."

Carson frowned at Ronon, who innocently shrugged his shoulders. "No idea," he said.

They lifted Sheppard to his feet and his knees buckled immediately, but they held on to him, keeping him upright. Slowly shuffling out of the bathroom, they stepped out into the main part of the infirmary.

Sheppard saw sand and bright sunlight and Holland lying bloody and battered on the ground. "Holland?"

Carson tightened his grip, preventing Sheppard from bending over and reaching for the floor. "He's not there, colonel. You're in the infirmary of Atlantis, not Afghanistan. Atlantis, colonel. Do you understand?"

Sheppard looked up at Beckett, his vision swimming for a minute before the sand disappeared and was replaced by the beds of the infirmary. He glanced over to Ronon for a second before returning his gaze to Carson. "Sorry . . . kind of . . . zoned out for a sec."

Carson looked relieved and nodded. "It's okay, colonel, as long as you're back with us. Let's get you to bed." He and Ronon shuffled John the rest of the way to the bed and managed to get him tucked in. Carson hung the IV back on the pole, amazed that it hadn't been pulled out in all the excitement. "Thank you Ronon," he said to the runner, realizing without the big man, John would still be lying on the bathroom floor.

"No problem. I'm glad I could help." He nodded to John. "Sheppard going to be okay?"

Carson looked worriedly at his patient, his eyes opening and then closing as the pilot attempted to focus on his surroundings. "I need to run some tests. Something's wrong here, but I don't know what. Have you had headaches since returning?

Ronon shrugged. "I had one for a while when we first got back, but it was gone after I got some sleep. I'm okay now."

Carson nodded. "Same here. Once I got some rest, the headache went away." He rubbed his face as he stared at his patient. "His seems to be getting worse instead of better and he's having dizziness and nausea as well. And he's passed out twice on me. I have no idea what's going on, but I need to figure it out soon."

Ronon patted Carson on the shoulder. "You will."

Carson sighed and shook his head. "I wish I had your confidence on that."

"You worry too much," said Ronon, turning his head to look down at Sheppard.

Carson followed his gaze and noticed Sheppard seemed to have drifted off to sleep. "I'll sit with him for a bit. We'll need to run some tests shortly, so you might as well go get yourself something to eat and check back later."

Ronon nodded before turning and striding out of the infirmary. Carson pulled up a chair and began listing the tests he wanted to run.

"He's getting worse, isn't he?"

Carson looked over to find Rodney up on one elbow watching him, his face a mask of worry.

"Well, he's not getting any better. I just wish I knew what's causing this. How about you, have you had problems with headaches?"

"Hard to say, mostly I noticed the pain from being shot. I haven't really noticed a headache."

Carson nodded. "Get some rest, Rodney."

After a few moments of silence, Rodney spoke again, quietly. "Just . . . fix him Carson. There must be something in your witchdoctor bag that covers this."

Carson sat looking at Sheppard. "I'm trying, Rodney, I'm trying."

oOo

Elizabeth paused at the doorway to the infirmary, letting her eyes wander over to John's bed. He lay on his side with his back to her, but his breathing looked steady and even so she figured he was sleeping. Two beds down, Rodney also seemed to be sleeping. She walked up to Carson's office door and peered in to find the doctor staring down at some papers on his desk. "Carson, am I interrupting?"

Carson lifted his head and stood up when he saw her. "Yes, lass, and for that I thank you. Please come in and take a seat."

Elizabeth walked in and sat in the chair in front of Carson's desk. "I didn't see Teyla. Did you release her?"

"Aye, I did. She promised to stay off her leg and I'm afraid all the chaos with the colonel was just adding to her stress. Maybe she can get some rest in her quarters. We'll be checking on her the first day or two to make sure she's getting along okay. Rodney is healing well, but I know he won't take care of himself and that's important to his recovery right now, so he stays."

Elizabeth gave a tight smile and a nod. "He'll probably work himself into a coma in the lab. What about John? Have you made any headway figuring out what's wrong?"

Carson shrugged. "Nothing much yet. I just got his test results back and was starting to go over them. I'm afraid I haven't made it very far yet."

"He looked like he was sleeping."

"Aye, he passed out earlier and was quite disoriented when he woke up. He slept for a wee bit after that, but then we woke him up to run some tests and I think we wore him out. His headache was pretty bad by the time we'd finished and he dropped off almost immediately."

Elizabeth pursed her lips for a few seconds before looking back up at Carson. "Do you have any idea what's wrong with him? I'm really starting to worry."

"I know, you aren't the only one. I'm hoping the test results will show something, because I'm drawing a blank. Ronon and I both got rid of our headache by getting a little sleep, but so far that has done nothing for the colonel."

A yell and a loud clanking caused them both to jerk their heads toward the door while rising to head for it. They reached the main room of the infirmary to find John staggering across the room, his IV line pulled out and one foot dragging a sheet.

"John, what are you doing?" Elizabeth rushed over to John.

John squinted as the moonlight reflected off the endless sand in front of him. He felt heavy and lethargic with guilt, having failed to save Holland. He was determined to make it back in one piece so he could at least deliver Holland's dogtags to his family. A Taliban approached him from the side and he immediately lashed out, his anger bursting forth and giving him the energy he needed. He took down two enemy soldiers and ran as fast as he could. They wouldn't take him, no matter what.

"Doctor? Are you all right?" Carson realized he was lying on the infirmary floor with something oozing down his throat almost choking him. He brought his hand up to touch his throbbing face and pulled it away to see blood. He remembered seeing John hit Elizabeth and began trying to sit up.

Another nurse was kneeling next to Elizabeth, who looked to be unconscious. "Kelly, how is she?"

The nurse looked up at Carson. "Looks like she's got a black eye and a possible concussion. How are you, Dr. Beckett?"

A dark haired nurse handed Beckett a damp rag, which he pressed against his bleeding nose and mouth. "Where's my radio?" he asked, his voice muffled by the rag.

One of the nurses picked his radio up and handed it to him. He put it on and activated it. "Major Lorne, we have a problem. Colonel Sheppard is hallucinating that he's in Afghanistan and he's run from the infirmary. He's very ill and we need to find him and get him back here as fast as possible."

Lorne's voice answered him immediately. "Understood, doc. Don't worry, we'll try not to hurt him."

"I'd appreciate that, major, he doesn't need any more problems right now." Carson looked over at Elizabeth. "All right, let's get her in a bed and get some x-rays." This was going to be a heck of a night.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**HAUNTED - Part 5**

John ran without knowing where he was going, running on instinct and adrenaline. He was confused by his surroundings, by the sheer magnitude of the place he was trapped in. He didn't remember leaving the desert, and he couldn't figure out where he was. No matter. He needed to find weapons and a place to hide.

What freaked him out a bit, though, was the fact that doors kept opening for him as he reached them. Sliding open to let him pass, then slipping closed. At first it made him jump, but he was starting to get used to it. He wondered if this were an enemy camp. He was dressed in scrubs and this place didn't resemble a hospital, so maybe it was some kind of enemy research facility. The weird thing was that it looked like something out of a Star Trek episode. Next Generation, not the original.

Without warning, John stumbled, knees buckling and sending him crashing to the floor. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him and his vision grayed out. When he came back to himself he was lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. A familiar ceiling. He was on Atlantis.

"Oh god!" John saw blood on his knuckles and they were sore and he vaguely remembered lashing out at someone. He had been in the infirmary, talking to Elizabeth. Or maybe that had happened earlier. God...he couldn't remember. Everything was fuzzy and his head ached abominably. Slowly he sat up, swallowing hard against nausea.

"Colonel!"

He looked up to see Lorne in the doorway of the room he was in. A Lorne who was armed with a stunner and who looked concerned. "Major," John replied, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears.

Lorne took a step closer. "You okay, sir?"

"I don't think so," John replied. "What happened?"

"You kinda made a jail break," Lorne replied. "You took out Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett."

"Shit!" John flexed his sore hand. "Are they...did I hurt them?"

Lorne looked grim. "Dr. Weir has a shiner and a bit of a headache, but Dr. Beckett radioed to say she'll be okay. As for Beckett...you nearly broke his nose."

John felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He pushed himself against the wall and drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and rocking a bit. "I didn't mean to hurt them," he whispered. "I thought..." John broke off, not knowing how to explain what was happening to him because he didn't understand it himself.

"I need to get you back to the infirmary, Sir," Lorne stated. He moved to stand beside John, but his stunner was still raised.

"Okay." John wasn't going to argue with him, although he was thinking maybe it would be better if he were locked up in one of the cells instead. He was terrified he would zone out again and hurt someone else. Terrified to the point that he realized he was shaking.

Lorne crouched down beside him. "Colonel...you still with me?"

John looked up, nodding slightly and wincing as pain lanced through his temples. "Can I rest a minute?" he asked. To be honest, he wasn't all that sure he could stand up right not, so walking didn't seem very likely. Plus he had a feeling he was a fair distance from the infirmary.

"Rest up," Lorne said. "I'll contact Beckett to let him know we found you."

"Okay." John laid his head down on his knees and listened to Lorne radio Beckett. He heard something about a stretcher and that jolted him into motion. "I can walk," John said, making an attempt to rise to his feet. But even as he stood up everything wavered and when he blinked hard and his vision came back into full focus, he knew something was wrong. He wasn't where he belonged. This wasn't right.

Backing away from the soldier in front of him, John whispered, "No...no...no..." Wishing all the while that his head didn't hurt so much and that he wasn't so confused. 

The soldier moved towards him. "Sir? Colonel?"

He wasn't a Colonel, he was a Major. Major Sheppard. This was wrong and he had to get out of here. John pushed away from the wall and made to run past the soldier but he heard a sizzling sound then pain rippled through his body before darkness claimed him.

OoO

"How is he?"

Carson started at the sound of Elizabeth's voice. She had moved to stand beside him at John's bedside. The Colonel had been brought to the infirmary, via gurney, after Lorne had been forced to stun him. "He hasn't woke up yet, so I can't say," Carson replied.

Elizabeth studied John a moment then sighed. "I'm worried about him."

"Aye, me too." Carson echoed her sigh then turned to face her, studying her bruised eye with a doctor's focus. "How are you feeling, lass? I told you to stay in your room and rest."

"I tried that," Elizabeth allowed. "But between my worry about John and my headache, it wasn't happening."

Carson eyed her with concern. "Are you feeling sick or dizzy?"

Elizabeth reached out to squeeze his arm. "I'm fine. I'm just worried and a bit sore. Some Tylenol will fix me right up."

"I can get you some." Carson turned away to get the pills, bringing them back with a glass of water. He found Elizabeth perched in a chair next to Sheppard's bed. "Here." He gave her the pills and water, watching her take them, seeing how stiffly she moved. But he knew she would be all right, it was the Colonel they had to worry about.

"How's your nose?" Elizabeth asked, handing back the glass and turning an eye to the swollen appendage on Carson's face.

Gingerly, Carson touched the tip of his nose. "It's sore as hell but not broken."

Elizabeth made a face, wincing as the movement pulled the skin around her eye. "John is going to feel terrible when he realizes what he did."

"That he will," Carson conceded, turning his attention to the man on the bed. Sheppard was pale and still, but in that moment he shifted a bit, his eyelids fluttering. Carson moved to the other side of the bed so he could check John's pupils. He shone his penlight and they were reactive. He pulled back and said firmly, "Colonel Sheppard...can you hear me, son?"

Another soft moan was his response, then John started shifting again, arms tugging at the restraints they had been forced to put him in. His head turned on the pillow and his eyes suddenly opened.

Elizabeth stood up and moved closer. "John?"

He turned to look at her, almost looking through her. But then his eyes blinked sharply and he whispered, "Sorry...so sorry."

"It's okay." Elizabeth reached out to touch his shoulder but pulled back when he flinched as she touched him. She looked at Carson.

"Colonel, can you look at me?" Carson requested, avoiding Elizabeth's gaze. He knew she wanted confirmation that Sheppard would be all right, but that was something he couldn't give her right now. But that thought slipped away as Sheppard suddenly sat up, yanking hard at his restraints, then a he screamed. A sound of pure agony that cut through Carson like a knife.

**THE END...of part 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE: **Thanks for all the wonderful, wonderful reviews. A word to all the reviewers who have mentioned what cliffy hounds we are. First, we are both hopeless cliffy lovers in the first place (as you know), but then we have a tendency to set each other up and leave a mess for the other to get our guy out of, hence the huge amount of messes, disasters, and cliffhangers. That may also be the reason these things end up way longer than we plan – we're too busy playing "get John out of this" (LOL). Now you know. Thanks for putting up with us and our endless shenanigans!!

**HAUNTED - Part 6**

Carson and Elizabeth watched as John's eyes rolled back in his head and his body stiffened, his back arching to the point Elizabeth thought surely it would snap. Then he suddenly went limp, falling back against the pillows. Carson had his stethoscope out and against his patient's chest almost before Elizabeth's mind registered what had just happened. A few seconds later, he went at John's eyes with his penlight. Mumbling what sounded like, "Sluggish responses," he turned back to Elizabeth.

"Carson, what just happened? Is he all right?" Elizabeth was unaware of the way she was ringing her hands nervously as she waited on the doctor's response.

"I believe he just had a small seizure. His pupils are responding sluggishly to light, although his pulse seems strong and steady." Carson stared off into space and chewed on his lip a few moments, obviously lost in thought. He finally looked back down at Elizabeth, nodding to himself as he made his decisions about what to do next. "Elizabeth, you need to leave for a bit. I want to run a quick scan and get another blood sample. I need to check something, and then I'll come see you."

Elizabeth looked from Carson back down to John, his face pale against the white sheets. She gently ran her hand along the top of his restrained one, watching him breathe in and out.

"Elizabeth, I know you're worried, but I need you to leave so I can check some things. We'll take good care of him, I promise."

Elizabeth pulled her hand back and looked back up at Carson. "I know you will, Carson. Call me when you're finished please."

Carson nodded as he ushered her towards the door. "I will. Now go."

oOo

It was several hours later when Carson finally stepped into Elizabeth's office. There was no need to knock since she had been staring out the door when he approached. She stood and waved him in before he was even to the threshold.

"Carson, I was beginning to wonder. What have you found out?" she asked anxiously.

Carson sighed and looked at her. "Well, I'm afraid I still don't have any definite answers, but I do have some information. I went back and checked the reports on our bloodwork when we first returned from the planet and Rodney, the colonel, and I all had trace amounts of a substance in our bloodstream. It was such a tiny amount, that we didn't think anything of it. Ronon and Teyla didn't have the substance."

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly. "The Ancient gene?"

Carson nodded. "That's what I'm assuming. The Wraith device must have somehow interacted with the gene to make the odd protein we had. In the blood tests I ran a while ago on the colonel, his amount had increased significantly and the new round that I just ran showed an even higher level. I had my blood and Rodney's run as well this last time and the substance is completely gone from our system."

Elizabeth frowned. "That's odd. Does it have anything to do with the strength of his gene?"

Carson shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. Something else occurred to me as well. Colonel Sheppard is the only one whose hallucinations involved reliving a specific event in his past. I have a fear of failing my patients, so my hallucination revolved around losing my current patient. Rodney's of course involved not being able to disable the Wraith machine he was working on. Ronon's main source of fear . . . if the man ever really has fear, the past few years has been the Wraith, so he saw Wraith pursing him. None of the rest of us were remembering a specific event in our past and I don't think any of us had the severe emotional investment that the colonel had."

Elizabeth nodded that she understood his point. "So, what does all that mean?"

Carson sighed loudly and rubbed the side of his face. "I have no idea. I don't know if the difference in his reaction and ours is the strength of the gene or somewhere he went on the planet or the type of hallucination he was experiencing or what. Maybe his deep emotional involvement triggered a more severe reaction. Maybe it's a combination."

Elizabeth couldn't hide the expression of disappointment. "So, what do we do now?"

"Continue to monitor him, I guess. I'll have to keep him restrained until the hallucinations stop to keep him from hurting himself or anyone else. I'm guessing the increased level of that protein is responsible for the specific physical symptoms and I'm hoping our distancing ourselves from the Wraith device will cause the levels to start dropping. If that happens of its own accord pretty soon, then he should recover."

Elizabeth swallowed before asking the hard question. "And if it doesn't diminish on its own?"

Carson shook his head and looked down at the floor. "Then . . . we'll have a wee bit of a problem."

oOo

Rodney yawned and stretched, noting that he was finally beginning to feel human again. Part of him was furious with Sheppard for shooting him, Wraith device or not. He had been under the influence of the thing as well, but he hadn't felt the need to shoot anyone, much less members of his team. Carson hadn't gone around shooting people either, just having conversations with dead people while reviving those that were still alive.

Ronon and Sheppard had been the ones to start shooting at each other and anyone else they stumbled across. He wondered if that was because they were military and that's what they had done most of their adult life. At least the colonel had seen Teyla as a friend and hadn't harmed her. That was a miracle in itself. He let his head roll to the side to look at the person in his thoughts. Lifting his head, he noticed that Sheppard was awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Colonel?" he called softly, trying not to attract the attention of the nurses. He and Sheppard hadn't really had a chance to talk since they had gotten back and he'd been happy about the situation at first. He'd been furious with Sheppard and not really wanting to hear anything the man had to say. But since then, although still harboring some anger, he'd begun to worry about the colonel.

"Colonel, it's McKay. Can you hear me?" Rodney watched as Sheppard continued to stare at the ceiling, showing no sign he'd heard the man calling him. McKay sighed and pushed back the covers, sitting up as he swung his legs over the side. He sat for a minute, holding his hand against the stitches in the side of his chest and allowing the world to come back to rest. "The things I do for stupid flyboys, even after they shoot me," he muttered to himself.

Slipping off the side of the bed, he was thankful to be in scrubs and not an open back gown. Once he got his sense of balance, he grabbed the IV pole and leaned against it as he pushed it across the floor toward Sheppard's bed. The nurses had gotten him out of bed a few times to walk around and, although he had complained at the time, he was thankful for it now. His metal IV pole clanked as it hit the side rails of Sheppard's bed.

"Oh, sorry about that. Colonel, it's McKay. I know you're awake because your eyes are open. So talk to me. What's going on with you?" When the colonel didn't respond, Rodney touched his arm, just above the restraint securing him to the bedrail. Sheppard finally blinked and then slowly turned his head. He frowned at Rodney, his expression one of confusion.

"Who . . . McKay?"

Rodney sighed with relief and nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, it's McKay. How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?"

John looked at him for a few moments as if he was thinking, then his face went white and his mouth dropped open. "Rodney . . . I shot you . . . I'm sorry, I didn't . . . I thought you were . . . I would never have shot you on purpose." He tried to lift his arm, only to have it pulled down by the restraints. John looked at them in amazement for a few seconds before tugging against it again, as if testing it.

"You probably shouldn't do that," advised Rodney.

John stopped and lay back against the pillows, gazing up at Rodney. The infirmary suddenly became the desert and Rodney a Taliban. John sucked in a deep breath and tried to sit up, finding himself pulled back down. Then he was back in the infirmary with Rodney. The pain in his head flared and he closed his eyes against it, bright lights flashing against the inside of his lids, making him slightly nauseous.

"Colonel . . . Sheppard, what's wrong?" Rodney could feel the fear building in the pit of his stomach. Something was obviously wrong with Sheppard and he just wanted Carson to figure it out and fix his friend.

John opened his eyes and saw Rodney's worried expression. He started to tell the scientist that he was all right when the scene before him flashed to the desert and then back to the infirmary. John closed his eyes again against the pain flaring behind his eyes. "Stop it . . . just . . . make it stop." John tried in vain to bring his hands up to his head as he gasped for air.

"Colonel . . . oh, god, what's wrong? Nurse! Help! Something's wrong with Sheppard." Rodney looked around frantically, afraid to leave Sheppard alone and yet afraid not to go for help. The colonel had his head pushed back into the pillow, his eyes closed tightly and his face drawn with pain. Rodney was relieved to see two nurses rushing toward him from the other side of the infirmary.

oOo

Beckett was just standing up when his radio chirped. Tapping the device, he glanced at Elizabeth and answered the call. "This is Dr. Beckett."

"_Dr., this is Amy. You'd better come back to the infirmary, sir. Colonel Sheppard's in trouble. He seems to be in a lot of pain and he's not responding to us."_

Beckett sighed and shook his head. "I'm on my way. Just try to keep him calm." He looked up at Elizabeth as he backed toward the door. "It's the colonel. I have to go."

Elizabeth immediately stood and followed him down the corridor. "I'm coming with you."

They arrived to world of semi-chaos. One nurse was trying in vain to get Rodney back into his bed while he yelled at her and insisted that they help Sheppard. Another nurse was trying to calm Sheppard down as he thrashed and pulled against the restraints, moaning periodically as he seemed to struggle with the pain. Beckett came up quickly to the bedside and took Sheppard's arm.

"Colonel, it's Dr. Beckett. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"He's in pain, you moron, even I can see that," yelled Rodney from the side of his bed.

Beckett whirled on Rodney to give a sharp retort until he saw the look of fear on Rodney's face. "Tell me what happened."

Rodney seemed to calm down as he focused on relaying the events of the last few moments to Beckett. "He woke up and seemed . . . distant, like he wasn't all there. I went over to talk to him and he was coherent for a minute. Then he just looked . . . kind of freaked out and said he was sorry for shooting me. That's when he started acting like his head was really hurting. He told me to make it stop and then he just closed his eyes and started thrashing like he is now. He's hurting, Carson, anyone can see that. Help him . . . please . . . just help him."

Carson turned back to Sheppard. "Colonel . . . open your eyes and look at me colonel." Carson placed one hand on the side of John's face and rubbed it, trying to get the man's attention. The pilot finally slowed his struggles and looked up at Carson.

"Good, now colonel, keep focused on me. Tell me what you're feeling? What kind of pain are you in?"

John's eyes rolled a bit as his eyelids danced up and down with his attempt to focus on the doctor. "I tried . . . to save him sir . . . Carson? I can't . . . make it stop . . . switching back and forth . . . Holland is . . . head hurts . . . " John grunted as he once again squeezed his eyes shut and arched his back off the mattress.

"Carson, please . . . " pleaded Rodney from a few feet away.

Carson nodded and gave orders to one of the nurses. He kept patting John on the arm and shoulder, talking softly to him and trying to keep him aware of where he was. When the nurse returned, he nodded and watched as she injected the contents of a syringe into the IV port. A few moments later, John's movements slowed and his frantic breathing seemed to calm. His eyes flickered open a second and he darted them about until he finally focused on Carson. He looked up at the physician for several seconds before mouthing the silent word, "Thanks."

Carson just let out a long, slow breath as John stilled and his breathing evened out. He patted his patient's arm and smiled. "You're welcome."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**HAUNTED - Part 7**

"So what do we do now?" Elizabeth asked the question that was in all their minds. She had gathered them together in the conference room. Rodney in a wheel chair, Teyla in a chair, her wounded leg up on another, her crutches beside her. Ronon was in the back of the room, pacing. But Elizabeth was mostly focused on Carson and Kate, both who sat to her left.

Kate was the first to reply. "I don't know what to tell you until I talk to Colonel Sheppard. But to guess, it's sounding a lot like PTSS."

Elizabeth grasped her words like a lifeline. "Which you can help him with, right? You can make him better."

"I can try," Kate allowed. "There's the very real medical aspect of this to deal with. The substance that Dr. Beckett found in Colonel Sheppard's system."

"Which I don't have any more information on," Carson interjected.

Rodney looked upset, yet intrigued. "What substance?" He listened while Carson explained then snapped his fingers. "Get me a laptop and Zelenka," he demanded. "I bet we come up with something."

Elizabeth eyed him with hope. Rodney had always come through for them in the past. "What are you thinking? Something in the Ancient data base?"

"Yes, well...that too," Rodney stated. "But mostly that I'm a genius so I'll figure something out." He looked smug but there was a shadow of concern to temper it. It was obvious he was worried about Sheppard.

"Is it okay?" Elizabeth asked Carson. She didn't want to push Rodney if he wasn't well enough to handle it.

Carson was nodding. "That should be fine, so long as he works from his bed."

Rodney made a face. "I'll work from my room. Zelenka and I will need peace and quiet and we won't get that in the infirmary." 

"Fine." Carson had looked about to argue, but then he nodded. "Since I took you off the IV and if you promise to work from your bed, I'll allow it."

"Whatever." Rodney was already dismissing him and it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. He did focus on Ronon and wave a hand at him. "Take me to my room."

Surprisingly, Ronon didn't respond other than to grip the back of the wheelchair and push Rodney out of the room.

Elizabeth was certain that Ronon was amenable because he believed Rodney might be able to help Sheppard. She knew the Satedan was worried about John. They all were. "Is there anything the rest of us can do in the mean time?" she asked Kate.

"Not really." Kate looked as frustrated as Elizabeth felt. "I'm going to visit Colonel Sheppard right now and see if he remains lucid enough to work with me a bit. Maybe something positive will come of it."

"May I visit him later?" Teyla requested. She had been silent to this point, but she looked sad. Sad and worried about her friend.

Kate stood up then moved to Teyla and patted her shoulder. "I'm sure he'd love to see you," she said warmly. "I'll contact you after I'm finished and let you know when a good time would be."

Teyla nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you. I will wait for you in my room." She stood up, all fluid grace, reaching for the crutches. Even on them she moved with strength and certainty as she exited the room.

Kate followed her out.

Which left Elizabeth with Carson. "If we can't fix this, what do we do? We can't keep him sedated or in restraints."

"I know." Carson looked tired and frustrated. "I'm going to be positive and hope that Rodney and Zelenka come up with something. And maybe Kate can help the Colonel. I'll try anything at this point."

"I may have to send him back to Earth," Elizabeth said softly.

Carson's head shot up and he locked eyes with her, looking horrified. But then he nodded. "Aye, that may end up being our only option. But not until we've tried everything else."

Elizabeth was nodding as well. "Agreed. And even then, if John is lucid enough to understand, I'll let it be his choice." She felt shaky as she said that because in her mind, the only other choice for John might be death. She knew if he had any awareness at all of circumstances, he would not want to live out his life locked up in a rubber room. And she wouldn't blame him. She wouldn't want that either.

"Rodney will find a way," Carson said firmly. "He always does."

"Good point." Elizabeth managed a shaky smile. She watched Carson stand up and walk out, then she just sat there, contemplating what life would be like in Atlantis without Sheppard. It didn't bear thinking about.

OoO

John saw Kate approaching. He hadn't been awake for long and he was feeling very fuzzy and lethargic. That would be the drugs that Carson kept pumping in to him. He realized they were necessary and he was almost grateful to them. They kept him somewhat lucid. He was still slipping in and out of his past, but he slept more than anything else. The only thing that really bothered him right now were the restraints, although he realized they were necessary. He still winced looking at Carson's bruised face. Even though it looked blurry to him at this point.

"Colonel?"

"Awake," he whispered, wondering if it sounded as slurred to her as it did to his own ears.

Kate grabbed a chair and moved to sit beside him. "How are you feeling, Colonel?" she queried.

John took a moment to think about it, flinching as the image of Holland flashed in his head. It was gone a blink later and he managed to reply with, "Been better. You?"

"You're still with is, so I'm doing pretty good," Kate stated. "I want to help you, Colonel. But I need to understand a few things."

"I'll...I'll try." John closed his eyes against another flash. The Taliban this time, with guns. A longer flash and it made him twitch. He wanted it to stop.

"Colonel?" Kate was on her feet and touching his arm.

He flinched away, tugging at the restraints, wishing he could lift his hands and cover his face. It wouldn't make the images go away, since they were in his head, but a part of John wanted the ability to hide, childish as it seemed. If he couldn't see it, it couldn't see him. It couldn't hurt him.

Kate looked uncertain of what to do, but then she sat back down and asked another question. "What are you seeing right now?"

"Flashes." John could answer that easily. "Holland."

"Tell me about him," Kate requested.

But John shook his head. "No. Nothing to tell. I didn't save him." There were more flashes of Holland and the desert and he could almost feel the heat of the sand and the sun so it didn't occur to John that he had pretty much answered Kate's question anyway.

She reached for his arm again, maybe hoping to draw his attention. Maybe to distract him. He looked at her, her visage blurred by the drugs. Kate smiled at John. "I think you feel guilty, Colonel. I think that guilt is deep seated."

"No..different.." John couldn't form complete sentences. Talking required too much of his focus. He had to concentrate on not letting the images in his head become real. But it hurt to fight them. His head pounded, pain stabbing his temples in time with his heartbeat and he felt sick and cold and scared at what was going to happen next. "No..no!" John felt himself slipping away from reality and he reached for it, yanking at his restraints, fighting them as if he could physically grasp his sanity and pull it back.

"Colonel...take it easy." Kate tried to soothe him but John was too far gone. "Hang on," she told him, then she ran to find Carson.

John tried to do as she said. He tried to hang on. But the past was too strong, it's hold to painful. It ripped him away and John screamed in protest.

**THE END...of part 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**HAUNTED – Part 8**

Kate watched, somewhat horrified, as Carson and a nurse struggled with Sheppard until he finally went limp, drugged even deeper by whatever Beckett had added to his IV. She watched the two professionals check the colonel's pulse and blood pressure, before double checking the IV line. When they were certain their patient was stable, Carson nodded to the nurse.

"Thank you, Amy. I think he'll be all right now."

The nurse looked down worriedly at Sheppard and then back up at Beckett. "Call if you need me, sir." Giving a nod to Kate, she silently made her way across the room.

Kate walked over to stand beside Carson, joining him in watching the now sleeping form. "What are we going to do?"

Carson sighed and shook his head. "We're going to pray that Rodney figures something out soon."

oOo

It was several hours later when Carson looked up from his desk to find Teyla standing at the door, leaning on her crutches. "Teyla, what can I do for you?" he asked, rising from his chair and moving toward her. "Is your leg bothering you?"

"No, it is fine. I would like to see Colonel Sheppard . . . I would like to see John."

Carson studied her a moment and decided she didn't look like she was in too much pain. "He's asleep just now. I'm afraid he had a bit of an episode earlier and I had to give him something."

Teyla nodded. "I have talked with Kate about John. Still, I would like to sit with him, if I may. I believe I understand something of the dreams and hallucinations he is having and I thought I might be able to help."

Carson took a slow breath in and blew it out slowly, giving him a moment to think. "Well, you did more or less live through it with him down on that bloody planet. You may be able to get through to him more than we have been able to." He rubbed his chin a second. "I have to admit, it wouldn't hurt to have someone with him when he wakes, maybe help with the disorientation."

Teyla looked hopeful, her brown eyes watching him closely. "All right, I'll help you get settled. But I know you still tire easily, so don't stay too long."

Teyla smiled as the two began working their way to John's bed. "I will be fine, Carson. Thank you. How have you been the last few days, since our return?"

"I'm fine. Lt. Kagan is recovering well, now that he's actually had proper treatment. I just wish . . . "

Upon reaching John's bed, they paused at the foot. Teyla leaned against her crutch, holding it stable under her arm as she reached out to touch Carson's arm. "It was not your fault, Carson. There was nothing more you could have done."

Carson looked down at the floor for a second before glancing back up at Teyla. "We'll never really know the answer to that, now will we?" He looked down at Sheppard, beginning to shift restlessly under the covers. "He'll probably wake up soon and I still don't know how to help him. I'm feeling woefully inadequate these days."

"You are doing as well as anyone could under these circumstances and probably better than most. You have saved our lives many times Carson, as has John. We all know that sometimes we cannot save everyone."

Carson nodded. "I know, but it doesn't seem to make losing people any easier."

Teyla gave a small smile. "And perhaps it shouldn't. It keeps us from becoming . . . complacent."

Carson returned her smile, his eyes a bit wide. "Aye lass, I suppose it does at that. Rodney?"

Teyla looked down at the floor shyly. "Actually, Elizabeth. I have been trying to pick up some new words."

Carson pulled a chair close to the bed for her. "Well, you're doing a fine job. Now, have a seat and give that leg a rest." As Teyla sat down, Carson pulled up a second chair for her to prop her leg on.

"Thank you Carson."

"Just call me if you need anything." When Teyla nodded, he walked back to his office, hoping if he went over the test results one more time, he'd see something new.

Teyla watched John shift around in the bed, instinctively pulling against the restraints in his sleep. His agitation seemed to gradually increase, as did his incoherent mumblings. Picking up her crutches, she stood and moved to his side, reaching out to wipe the sweat from his forehead and push his hair back off his face. At her touch, his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and unseeing at first.

"John, it is Teyla. I am here with you . . . and we are safe in Atlantis." She watched as he focused on her voice and seemed to fix his eyes on her face.

"Teyla?" His voice was low and soft.

She rubbed her hand on the side of his face, giving him contact with the real world. "Yes, it is Teyla. How do you feel?"

John licked his dry lips, his eyelids jerking periodically with the effort to stay open. "Weird . . . spacey . . . " His eyes rolled back part way before returning to try and focus on her, the motion making her uneasy.

She turned back to the table beside the head of the bed and saw the pitcher of water. Reaching for it, she poured a little in a cup and turned back to the bed. "I'm going to lift you a little so you can get a drink," she explained as she leaned against the bed and put one hand behind John's head. She lifted him up a few inches and put the cup to his lips.

He spilled almost as much as he drank, but he didn't care. He'd never tasted anything so good, not even noticing the tepid temperature. "Thanks," he whispered as she eased his head back down to the pillow.

Blinking a few times, he concentrated on keeping lucid and not letting the flashbacks in. "You should sit down . . . your leg."

Teyla smiled. "I am fine, John. I am worried about you, we all are. Rodney is trying to find something in the Ancient database and Dr. Beckett also continues to search for some way to help you."

John nodded. "I know and I . . . " Teyla was suddenly Holland and John groaned, mentally focusing on making him be Teyla again. The effort sent spikes of pain through his head, but suddenly Teyla was standing there again, worry etched in her face.

"John?"

"So'kay. Just . . . faded for a second." Holland flashed in again for a few seconds. John squeezed his eyes shut. "Stop that," he whispered.

"John, I'm getting Dr. Beckett."

John reached out and grabbed her wrist, opening his eyes to concentrate on her face. "No . . . if you leave . . . I'll leave. You have to stay here, talk to me, keep me from losing it again. I don't think . . . I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Teyla nodded, concerned by the desperation in his eyes and his voice. "All right, I'll stay . . . as long as you are with me. Tell me about this Holland. Not the thing that is giving you nightmares, but tell me about him. What kind of man was he?"

John smiled and his hand went down to grip her hand. "He was a good man. You would have liked him."

When Carson came to check on them an hour later, he found Teyla with her chair pressed up close to John's bed, holding his hand as he talked to her. He just stood observing for a few minutes. He could see John having to focus and concentrate on Teyla and on the words he was saying. He could also see the pain in the man's drawn features. Teyla was closely monitoring the colonel, drawing him back into the conversation when he would hesitate and begin to drift away. Carson slipped away for a moment before returning.

"Colonel, Teyla, I see you two are enjoying each other's company."

John's eyes wandered a few moments as he lost his focus, but he recovered and looked up at Carson. "Hey, Carson. Teyla's just helping me stay in the here and now."

Carson smiled and nodded approvingly. "I was noticing that. I'm going to draw some blood, colonel." Carson watched his patient as he completed his task. "How's the headache?"

John seemed to be drifting again, his eyes looking unfocused as his head lolled to one side. Teyla quickly reached out and took his hand again, squeezing tightly. "John, Carson would like to know about your headache."

"It's okay, Holland, we'll get out of here."

Carson frowned at Teyla and then tapped John on the side of the face. "Colonel, it's Carson. I need you to focus on my voice. We're in Atlantis, son. Colonel, can you hear me?"

John turned his head and frowned, obviously fighting to understand what was happening. He groaned and closed his eyes, pushing his head back into the pillows behind him. "Sorry . . . head . . . hurts." He relaxed after a few seconds and his breathing slowed and evened out.

Carson looked at Teyla. "He's asleep. How long did you two talk?"

Teyla looked up at the clock on the wall. "I believe it was almost an hour. He was able to stay with me for most of that. He seemed able to focus better when we were talking. He was having . . . I believe he said they were flashes of Holland and Afghanistan, but they were brief. But I also think that the effort was making his headache worse. His pain seemed to get worse and worse."

Carson nodded. "Thank you for your help, Teyla. I think we may have just learned something very important. Now, lass, I want you to go get some rest. I need to get this blood to the lab."

Teyla stood and picked up her crutches. "Very well, I _am_ getting tired. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."

Carson nodded as he walked her to the door. "I will." He watched her leave and then headed straight for the lab.

oOo

Elizabeth watched as Carson sat down in one of the chairs across from her desk. Radek had pushed Rodney's wheelchair in just a few minutes before. "Please tell me you have something." She was surprised when they both nodded.

Rodney waved at the computer in his lap. "Radek and I found some references to Wraith experiments that were discovered by the Ancients. On one planet, they contaminated the water supply with a hallucinogenic drug that had the people so confused they couldn't run for their lives. They didn't even realize they were being culled. It seems the drug also gave the Wraith that fed on these people hallucinations, so they apparently dropped the project. A short time later, they discovered where the Wraith had designed some of their darts to emit an EM pulse similar to the one on the planet. Same idea, to confuse the people so they could cull them more easily, but apparently there were problems. They ended up interfering with the darts and about half of them crashed. We think the generator on the planet may have been related to that project."

"I guess even the Wraith have problems getting their technology to do what they want," commented Elizabeth. "I don't suppose the reference had anything that could help John?"

Rodney frowned. "Well, yes and no. When the Ancients went to investigate the planet where the ships had attacked, some of them were exposed to the pulse for a while before they got to the darts and turned it off. It gave them hallucinations, similar to what the people were experiencing. But they noticed that the hallucinations were more intense in some of the Ancients and carried on for days after they returned to Atlantis. They were never sure exactly why, although they suspected interaction with some gene that not all of them had. Some thought it was different body chemistry and some thought it was just that some of the men were . . . more traumatized by events they were reliving."

Carson turned in his chair to fully face Rodney. "I'm guessing the ones that had the more intense reaction developed a strange substance in their blood and that they had to wait on the substance to diminish before they got better."

Rodney frowned in disappointment. "Close. All the exposed Ancients developed the compound, but it was only in minute quantities in the ones that recovered quickly. It continued to build for a while in those with the severe reactions. And if you already had this figured out, then why have I been slaving over the computer for the last several hours?"

Carson shook his head. "I didn't, but I just added what I've found to what you were saying. That levels of the substance in the colonel's blood that I spoke of earlier have finally begun to go down. Teyla talked to the colonel a while ago and discovered if she kept him involved in conversation, he was able to maintain lucidity better."

Rodney nodded. "Well, that fits with what we found. They basically ended up restraining the ones exposed and trying to keep them calm. They used a combination of drugs and interaction with them to help them recover. Once they passed the stage where they were totally out of it, they found physical contact and talking to them helped them regain their focus and come out of it sooner."

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or happy. "So, you're saying on the one hand there's nothing you can do but wait it out, but on the other hand, he will recover."

"Aye, sounds like it. Rodney, did your database say how long the hallucinations lasted?"

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "It varied from one day to two weeks, depending on the person. Some of them had residual headaches and bouts with nausea for a while after that, as well."

"Well," said Elizabeth, "maybe he's through the worst of it."

"I hope so," replied Beckett.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE: **I have no idea why anyone would think we would lull you into thinking things were better only to present new problems. We would _never_ do such a thing (bats eyes innocently). Not buying that, are you? Well, can't blame me for trying. Let's just say the end is still several chapters away. And thanks for all the encouraging and sometimes hilarious reviews. You guys make us smile each and every time!!!!

**HAUNTED - Part 9**

Rodney had asked to sit with Sheppard. He had his laptop with him and he played a few games while he waited for Sheppard to wake up. He didn't have all that long to wait.

"No...no..." John shifted in the bed and started pulling on the restraints.

"Sheppard!" Rodney pushed out of the wheel chair. He didn't really need the damn thing, it was just more convenient and less painful for him so he played up his injury a bit. But right now his main concern was Sheppard. Reaching his side, he reached out and pressed a hand to the Colonel's shoulder.

Hazel-green eyes opened and stared at him blurrily. "Rodney?"

Smiling, Rodney nodded. "It's me. You okay?"

"You...you tell me." John blinked hard a few times, then he tried to shift himself up on the pillows.

"I'll raise you up," Rodney offered, punching the proper button to make the head of the bed rise.

"Thanks." John looked grateful then his eyes rolled back in his head a bit.

Rodney realized he had pulled away, so he gripped Sheppard's shoulder again. Carson had told him that physical contact was important to keep Sheppard grounded in the here and now. "Hey! You with me?" He watched John's eyes close and when they opened again he seemed able to focus on Rodney. "Stay with me, Colonel."

John nodded, a sluggish roll of his head on the pillow. "Trying. Did you...find anything?"

"Yes and no." Rodney felt a bit guilty that he wasn't able to ride in and save the day this time. "I found reference to what happened, but it seems the only cure is time. You'll get better each day and then you'll be fine again."

"How long?" John shifted again and winced, his eyes closing.

Rodney tightened his grip on Sheppard's shoulder. "A couple days more. Just hang in there." He wished there was something more he could do or say, but he had nothing. Which made him feel helpless. He hated that feeling.

Eyes snapping open, John focused them on Rodney. "How are you feeling?" he asked, looking suddenly sad and regretful.

"I'm fine. Really. Just milking the injury thing so Carson takes it easy on me. I'm good." Rodney realized he was babbling a bit, but he wanted to wipe away the guilt that glimmered in Sheppard's eyes. Although there was more pain in the gaze than anything. Which bothered Rodney more than it should have.

"Sorry...I'm sorry," John whispered, fighting to keep his focus on McKay. "I didn't mean to shoot you."

Rodney patted John's shoulder. "Yeah. I know. It just freaked me out is all. I've never had your killer mode focused on me before. It's kinda scary."

John almost smiled at that. "Yeah. Guess it is. When...when can you go back on duty?"

"Back on duty or back through the gate?" Rodney countered.

"Both." John's eyes were closing again and he struggled against it.

Rodney tapped his arm to bring him back. "Um. I'm kinda back on duty now, doing all those little things no one else can do. But Carson said I'll be able to go back through the gate in two weeks. So you'd better hurry up and get better so you can go too." It sounded lame, but it was all Rodney could come up with.

John looked ready to reply to that, but suddenly he arched off the bed and swallowed back a moan of pain. When his body relaxed onto the mattress, he was panting slightly and his eyes were glazed with pain when they flickered open.

"I'll get Carson!" Rodney was three steps in that direction when he saw the Doc heading his way. Rodney waved at Sheppard. "He's hurting!" He called out.

"Thank you, Rodney," Carson replied, moving to John's side. "Colonel...can you look at me?"

John peeled his eyes open and fixated them on Beckett's face. "Hey, doc," he croaked.

Carson smiled at him. "How's the pain?"

"Doable." John shifted, pulling at the restraints, but not asking to have them removed.

"Do you need me to give you something, or can you hold off a bit?" Carson made the question sound important.

Rodney thought it was a stupid question. "He's in pain! Give him something!" he demanded.

Carson turned to glare at him. "I do have a reason for what I'm doing," he replied. "When you get your medical license, we'll talk." Turning back to Sheppard, he explained himself. "I'd like you to try some broth, Colonel. I have a mug with a straw. It's a light broth and even if we just get a few sips in you it'll do you a world of good."

"I...I'll try," John whispered, but he made a face as he said it.

"I'll be right back." Carson was as good as his word and he returned with mug and he put the straw to John's lips. "Just a sip or two to start," he cautioned.

Rodney watched, feeling anger rising. "Can't you release him so he can hold the damn mug himself?" he snapped.

Carson remained focused on John until the Colonel pulled away from the straw, then he focused his attention on Rodney, and he looked angry himself. "I would love to release him but it's not a good idea right now, Rodney. I don't like keeping him restrained, but it's better than him hurting himself without meaning too."

"Or...hurting someone else," John interjected.

Both Rodney and Carson moved to look at him. Rodney spoke up first. "Yes, well...that would be bad. I...it's just..." He broke off because he really wasn't sure what he was trying to say. But it was hard seeing Sheppard so strung out and restrained and in pain. It was starting to freak Rodney out. "I...uh...I have to go and do stuff," he said, stepping around his wheel chair and heading for the door.

Carson called after him. "Don't you want your chair?" He received a middle finger as his reply and chuckled a bit before turning his attention back to John. "How about a few more sips, Colonel?" He held out the mug.

"No..sick!" John barely got the words out before he started heaving. He shuddered through wave after wave of nausea and gagging and when he was finally done he was exhausted and trembling and sweating and his head ached to bad he wanted to cry.

"Hang on, Colonel. I'll give you something to help the pain." Carson was a man of his word and a moment later he injected something into John's IV.

Liquid heat flowed through John's veins, soothing away the pain, allowing him to drift away into welcoming darkness.

He wasn't aware of being cleaned up and changed and situated behind a privacy curtain. Nor did he see the look of worry and sympathy coming from Beckett and the nurses. He was happily lost in oblivion.

OoO

Elizabeth watched Carson sink into the chair across from her desk. She knew the past two days had been difficult. Sure they knew that John would get better in time, but time seemed to be dragging to the point of almost going backwards. "How is he?" It was the question she had to ask.

Rubbing a hand over his grizzled face, Carson heaved a sigh then said, "Better. Mostly." He shook his head then tried to explain. "The episode flashes are fading, but now we have another concern."

"Which is?" Elizabeth prompted, all the while steeling herself for the bad news.

"I can't get any food into the Colonel," Carson replied. "Between the headaches and nausea, nothing stays down. I haven't been able to weigh him, but I guarantee he's already lost five pounds and I know he's going to be losing more."

Elizabeth processed the information for a moment. "But once he's finally past the flashes, he'll be able to eat. Right? So he'll be okay. You said he'd actually gained some weight since working out with Ronon."

Carson made a face. "Yes, he gained muscle weight, which was lovely. But it's not the same thing. He can't afford to lose the weight and given what Rodney told us, there's a chance the headaches and nausea will linger even once he's past the episodic flash stage. And it's not helping that he's bed ridden right now. He doesn't sleep other than when I drug him, so it's not a healing sleep, and he's just...he's weak and it's just going to get worse if I can't get any food into him." Rising from his chair, Carson paced as he continued. "He asked for a shower this morning and since he's been doing better I agreed. Ronon had to carry him into the shower and help him, as in get in the shower with him. It's a testimony to how desperate Sheppard was to feel clean that he allowed it. He was pretty much asleep by the time Ronon carried him back to bed."

"Is he still asleep?" Elizabeth was trying to focus on the positive, since there seemed so little of it.

"Aye, he was when I left," Carson allowed.

"Were you able to leave the restraints off?" Elizabeth knew Carson had planned on taking them off today and leaving them off, since John's flashes were much fewer and much less intense than they had been. He had some control over them now, which Elizabeth saw as a good thing.

Carson moved back to his chair, standing behind it. "So far they're still off and I don't' have him on the catheter right now either."

Elizabeth was glad to hear that. "That's a good sign."

"It's progress, I'll give you that," Carson stated. "But Sheppard is a long ways away from being better."

"But he's better than he was," Elizabeth pointed out.

A grimace crossed Carson's face. "That's a subjective interpretation of events."

Elizabeth didn't like the sound of that. "Meaning?"

"Meaning he's getting past the flashes and that's definitely a good thing." Carson sighed and slumped back into the chair. "The substance in his blood is pretty much gone so I think we've reached the turning point as far as that goes. But if I can't get any food into him, he's not going to get better. His headaches don't seem to be easing up all that much either."

"Could some of that be psychological?" Elizabeth ventured.

Carson nodded. "Could be. I've discussed it with Kate. She's going to try another session with John when he wakes up."

Elizabeth could only hope Kate would find something. "Keep me updated," she ordered.

"I'll do that." Carson hauled himself out of the chair and left the room.

Sighing, Elizabeth tried to focus on her work but gave up after twenty minutes and headed out onto her favorite balcony. With the sunshine kissing her uplifted face, she said a little prayer for John Sheppard.

**THE END...of part 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**NOTE: **Many continued thanks for the reviews!!

**HAUNTED - Part 10**

John opened his eyes and found himself lying on his side, staring at the bed rail. The pounding behind his eyes persisted, but seemed to be muted for the moment. He wasn't sure if that was him getting better or Carson's drugs. Rolling onto his back, he glanced across the room to see Carson talking to Kate Heightmeyer. The decision to roll back over and pretend to be asleep wasn't made quickly enough, as Carson made eye contact with him and nodded briefly. He closed his eyes and moaned.

John jerked, snapping his eyes open at the touch on his arm, realizing he must have drifted for a moment. Carson headed off his motions to sit up by raising the head of the bed and rearranging his pillows behind him.

"There you are colonel. How's the headache?"

John settled back into the pillows, moving around a bit more than necessary to stretch his achy, underused muscles. "Not bad at the moment." Once he stilled, he looked up at Kate. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call."

Kate smiled, used to Sheppard's little barbs. "No, I'm afraid not. But I promise not to be too pushy, colonel."

John grunted and closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his index finger. "Yeah, whatever." He saw a brief flash of Holland in his head and quickly opened his eyes. He was relieved to find the flash gone and the two doctors still there. "Let's just get this over with."

Carson nodded. "I'll just leave you two to visit." He didn't miss Sheppard's snort as he walked away.

John started to close his eyes again, but resisted the urge when he remembered the flash of Holland's bloody face from before. The flashbacks didn't happen often any more and they were always brief, but they were still unnerving and disorienting. He usually had them when he was getting tired or shortly after he woke up, when he was still a bit groggy. His main problem, other than the headaches and constant nausea, was keeping his focus on his surroundings. He found his mind tended to drift when he wasn't firmly grounded in the events around him. Rodney had told him rather graphically how his eyes tended to roll around like he was going into a seizure when he lost his focus and to please keep his head in the game.

"Colonel?"

John looked over to Kate, now seated in a chair next to the bed. "Sorry, just thinking. So, where do we start this time?"

"Why don't you tell me what happened on the planet?"

John rubbed his chin a few times before letting his hand drop. He really didn't want to do this. "I'm sure someone has written a mission report of some kind by now."

"I want your version of what happened, what you saw and experienced."

John sighed. "All right . . . uh, we found a Wraith generator in a cave that was emitting some kind of an EM pulse. We also found Genii soldiers that had killed each other months ago and most of the missing team from Atlantis had done the same thing. The energy pulse apparently made you hallucinate. Major Leonard blew up the DHD and the pulse made communications impossible, so we were stuck with getting the generator turned off if we wanted to get out. Rodney was working on that and Carson was busy treating Kagan and Barroso after Leonard shot them." John squeezed his eyes shut a moment as the pain in his head suddenly flared. He swallowed convulsively against the nausea that it seemed to awaken.

"Colonel, are you all right? Should I get Dr. Beckett?"

John was tempted to take the out Kate had just offered, but he knew she'd just come back and they'd have to start all over. The pain receded a little, allowing him to open his eyes and he worked to focus on Kate. Taking a deep breath, he managed to settle his stomach enough that he didn't feel like bringing up breakfast.

"I'm good, just . . . had a bad moment there. I'd like to finish this now. Anyway, we were chasing Leonard and he shot Teyla in the leg and then blew himself up. He thought we were super soldiers or something. Ronon began seeing Wraith at every turn and then . . . I saw Holland."

Kate nodded. "Tell me about Holland. I understand you were basically reliving something that actually happened, while the others were having hallucinations that fit their current situation."

John nodded. "Holland and I served together in Afghanistan a few years back. He went down behind enemy lines and the brass drug their feet trying to get him out. I figured if he had any chance of making it out alive, I needed to move. So I disobeyed orders and took a helicopter." He smiled and emitted a small, bitter laugh. "It was supposed to be easy. Set down, pick him up, get him out."

"I'm guessing it wasn't as easy as you thought."

John shook his head. "You'd think I'd learn . . . it never is." For a brief instant, he was looking at Holland, sitting in the sand, leaned up against the broken shell of a helicopter. "You're outta your mind, you know that?" said Holland's voice in his head.

"Colonel!"

John jerked his head up and his eyes open, his surrounding spinning for a moment before settling down into the walls and beds of the infirmary. He slowly looked over to find Kate firmly gripping his arm and looking down at him worriedly.

"You scared me colonel, I thought I'd lost you there for a minute."

Kate watched Sheppard's eyes drift to one side and roll back a little before he purposefully brought them forward and tried to focus on her. He squinted his eyes, as if the lights were bothering him, and she was just about to ask him if they were when he suddenly sat straight up.

"Sick," he whispered as he slapped his hand over his mouth and clenched his teeth together while he gagged. Kate looked around in panic, grabbing a small garbage can beside the bed. She barely got it under him before he began heaving into the plastic lined container. Holding the can steady with one hand, she rubbed his back gently with the other, something she remembered her mother doing when she was a child. She was greatly relieved when Carson and a nurse arrived about the time Sheppard quit gagging to take over his care. Taking several backward steps to get out of the way, she watched while they laid him back and wiped down his ashen face.

"What happened?" Carson asked her when they seemed to have Sheppard settled.

Kate shook her head. "We were talking and he drifted on me for a few seconds. When I touched him, it seemed to snap him out of it, but then his eyes did this weird rolling thing and he looked kind of like he was in pain. The next thing I knew, he sat up and said he was sick, so I grabbed the nearest thing I could find."

Carson nodded. "Sounds like what's been happening to him the last couple of days. I wish these spells would show some sign of letting up. Physically, he's losing more and more ground each day. Did you get anywhere talking to him?"

Kate sighed heavily. "No, I'm afraid not. I think we had just arrived at the place where I might learn something when he got sick. I'll have to try later, when he feels better."

They both looked back where the nurse was gently rubbing the cool, damp rag across the colonel's face and talking to him. They had lowered the head of the bed and his eyes were drifting around as he seemed to fight going to sleep.

"I just hope this ends soon, for his sake." Carson turned and walked Kate to the door of the infirmary. When he returned to John's bed, he found the nurse wringing out the cloth and then wiping it slowly across the colonel's neck, all the while telling him to relax and get some rest so that he could get better. Sheppard's eyes finally closed as she continued to soothe his discomfort. When she finally quit a few minutes later, it was obvious that the colonel was sound asleep.

"Thank you, Amy. I think that probably helped him more than you or I will ever know. You're a wonder, lass."

Amy blushed slightly as she gathered her bowl and rag on the tray. "No, I'm just a nurse who cares about her patients and the colonel's having such a hard time right now. We do what we can to help our people feel better." She paused to look up at Carson before she left. "And one reason why I love working here is that the doctors all feel the same way. That's not always the case."

Carson smiled proudly as he watched her walk across the infirmary. He was once again thankful to have the best medical staff anywhere in two galaxies. Looking after people like Colonel Sheppard, he needed it.

oOo

"Rodney?"

Rodney looked up from his computer and searched the lab for the source of the voice, a bewildered expression on his face. "I must be hallucinating again."

Carson appeared by his side, looking worried. "Hallucinating? Why do you say that?"

Rodney frowned at Carson and then reached out to poke him in the shoulder. "You feel real."

Carson rolled his eyes in exaggerated fashion. "Rodney, what are you doing? Of course I'm real. I just need your help with Colonel Sheppard."

Rodney's eyebrows shot up and he immediately tensed. "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened, he's just not getting any better. The headaches and nausea are causing him quite a problem. I wanted to ask if the database mentioned how long the symptoms usually persist?"

Rodney looked down and began typing frantically on his keyboard. A few seconds later, they watched as a document loaded and came up on the screen. Rodney scanned the text and shook his head. "It's kind of vague. It was different for different people. One guy who had a particularly strong reaction had them for weeks after the exposure before they gradually faded away."

Carson sighed and looked down at the counter as he leaned against it. "That's not what I wanted to hear."

Rodney looked defeated, realizing there really wasn't anything he could do and hating the feeling. "I could send you this report and you could read it yourself. It might give you some more information to go by."

Carson nodded. "Thank you, Rodney, please do. I need all the help I can get."

Rodney fiddled nervously with one of the computer keys before looking back up at Beckett. "He's going to be okay, isn't he?"

Carson just looked at him blankly for a second. "I hope so Rodney." Carson seemed lost in thought for a few moments, before slapping the counter. "Maybe we should try getting him to his feet. He's just lying there hurting and sick and weak and getting depressed. Maybe we should quit sitting around staring at him and try being more proactive."

Rodney looked confused for a second, as if he was having trouble processing what Carson meant, but then he stood up and widened his eyes. "Yes, you're right. The colonel hates lying around being sick. If we get him up and moving, maybe he'll focus better and that could help his recovery. Get him to a balcony, he loves balconies. He just loves being outside."

"Whoa, we need to slow down and start slowly. He's weak as a newborn lamb right now and if we overdo it, we could set him back even farther. I'm just talking about trying to get him up a few times a day in the infirmary right now. I can entice him with taking a hot shower, because you know that always makes him feel better."

Rodney snorted. "Figures you'd compare him to a lamb. I could take him out to the balcony in a wheelchair. I'm telling you, a little fresh air and sunshine will cheer him up."

Beckett smiled and slapped Rodney on the back. "We'll see, Rodney, we'll see. Send me that file and come by the infirmary later. We'll develop a plan and contact Elizabeth. We're going to help him get through this."

Rodney nodded. "Yes, we are. In spite of the fact that he shot me."

"Rodney!"

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**HAUNTED - Part 11**

John hated his life right now. He knew he was getting depressed at not getting better. That no one was blaming him for not getting better should have made him feel better. Or something. But it wasn't. It felt a bit like they were giving up on him. Like they figured there was no hope. He was starting to believe that to be true.

He did feel a little better after a shower. He hated the fact that Ronon had to help him with that. He'd tried to do it on his own but his legs wouldn't hold him and he kept getting head rushes. Carson explained it was because he couldn't keep enough food in him. John knew he'd lost a few pounds. He'd over heard Carson and a nurse whispering that they figured the number was about ten. Which kinda pissed John off. He'd worked hard to gain some muscle mass after getting tired of Ronon calling him a Skinny little thing. Sure the Satedan had done it simply to push John into accepting his offer to work out with him. But he'd let it work. The added muscle had felt good to John. It made him feel stronger and more fit. More capable of taking care of his team. But now he'd have to start over. Not even at the beginning or what had been the beginning the last time. At this point he'd taken ten giant leaps backwards.

"Sheppard."

John jumped at the sound of his name and turned to see Ronon looming next to his bed. For a big guy he sure moved quietly. "Hey, Ronon," John greeted him. He then found himself fighting to keep his eyes open. All he seemed to do was sleep, yet he still felt so damned tired. Probably because the only other things he did were trips to the bathroom and puking. Both wore him out way more than they should have.

The Satedan moved closer and leaned in to John. "Feel like getting out of here for a bit?" he asked.

"Like Carson would let me leave," John snorted. But it didn't have the effect he desired since it sounded more like a sniffle. He was too worn out to even snort properly.

"What he won't know won't hurt him," Ronon replied. "Be right back." 

John watched him go but lost track of him and in that moment an image of Holland flashed in his head, sending a spike of pain to his temples. "No...no..no.." John whispered, feeling miserable and frustrated. He was so tired of this happening. Not that it was anywhere near as frequent as it had been, but because he was so weak and tired, even a tiny flash like this wore him out. He was tired of pain being a constant, and equally tired of feeling fuzzy and lethargic between the pain meds Carson pumped into him and his weakness.

The moment passed and Ronon was there, pushing a wheel chair. "You ready to move?" he asked, even as he pulled back the covers.

"Move where?" John shivered as he was exposed to the air. It was warm enough but because he wasn't eating and moving around, he felt cold all the time.

"Balcony," Ronon replied, as he grabbed John's IV bag and hooked it to the pole on the back of the chair. Then he swooped in and lifted John out of the bed and deposited him into the chair in one smooth motion. He grabbed a blanket and spread it over John's lap, then he was behind the chair and pushing.

John felt his muscles quivering a bit at the effort it took to remain upright. He felt so damn tired he just wanted to puddle onto the floor and sleep. "We'll get caught," he whispered, because being quiet seemed like the thing to do during and infirmary break.

Ronon chuckled. "Carson is asleep in his office and all the nurses are occupied elsewhere. McKay's doing."

"Figures," John replied. He closed his eyes, feeling a bit of vertigo from the speed of the chair. Ronon was in the hallway and he started running. John gripped the chair arms tight. He didn't open his eyes when he heard doors whooshing open. Feeling himself tip back, he knew Ronon was pushing him into a transporter. A few more whooshes of doors and he felt something warm on his face. Warm and bright enough to make him see red behind his closed eyelids.

Slowly opening his eyes, John almost smiled as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sun. It felt good on his skin, exposed by the scrubs, soaking into him and easing his aches a bit. He only wished it could burn away the weakness as well.

Closing his eyes again, John lifted his face to the sun, but he started when a hand touched his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see Rodney standing there, watching him with worried eyes. "What are you doing here?" John asked.

"Risking my ass," Rodney replied, sounding grumpy. "When Carson figures out where we are, and he will figure it out, my ass will be grass. So you should thank me for this now."

"This was your idea?" John wasn't really surprised, even though he asked the question.

Rodney shrugged, then winced and put a hand to his sore side. "Who else could create a distraction to get the nurses out of the infirmary?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Teyla's here too." He stepped back so John could see.

Teyla hobbled forward on her crutches, a smile on her face bright enough to rival the sun. "It is good to see you out of bed, John," she said as she reached him.

"Feels good to be out of bed," he replied, only just now realizing he meant it. He just felt a bit of jealousy that Rodney was mobile, and even Teyla was moving much better, but he was too weak to stand up without support. He didn't belong in a damn wheel chair! Anger flared in John and made his head hurt. He lifted a hand to press to his temple to ease the ache, hating the fact that he was trembling.

"Are you all right, John?" Teyla asked, her voice heavy with concern.

He lowered his hand and faked a smile. "Sure. I'm...I'm good. Better now that I'm out here." John shifted his eyes so they were focused on the view. "It's a beautiful day."

Teyla pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Yes, it is. And we are pleased that you are here to enjoy it with us."

"I brought some food," Rodney interjected. "Sandwiches and some soup." He moved to John with a mug in his hand. "And don't even tell me you're not hungry. You have to eat and maybe the fresh air will help."

"Maybe." John accepted the mug, cupping it with both hands to keep it steady. It made him angry and frustrated that a mug half full of soup felt too heavy for him to handle. He felt useless and pitiful and it took all of his will power not to throw the mug over the balcony. Not that he had strength enough to toss it that far.

Teyla was still beside him and she seemed to sense his mood. "It is going to take time for you to be strong again, John. Your weakness is nothing to be ashamed of. It is what it is. When the flashes are over, you will get stronger."

Rodney moved to John's other side. "Teyla's right. I've read everything I could find in the Ancient data base and everything it tells me says that you will make a full recovery. You just need to be patient."

"Not one of my virtues," John confessed, as he stared at the broth in the mug.

"Make it one," Ronon offered, helpfully, before stuffing half a sandwich into his mouth.

John sighed, knowing that Ronon made sense. But it was easier said than done. Still, he made the effort to sip at the soup, ignoring the way his stomach churned at the smell. Just as he tried to ignore the image of Holland that danced in his head.

**THE END...of part 11**


	12. Chapter 12

**HAUNTED – Part 12**

Teyla noticed John's hand beginning to shake under the weight of the mug. He had only managed to take a few sips, but he was clenching his jaw tightly in an effort to keep it down. She also noticed that the color seemed to have drained from his face as he began listing slightly to his right.

She leaned against her crutch and reached out to take the mug when Rodney noticed her movement and saw what was happening. "Here, I'll take that," he said as he eased the mug from John's hands.

John just gave a small nod, grateful for the help. He didn't have enough energy for anything else. The nausea was rolling in his gut and his head was pounding, but he didn't want to leave the sun. The warmth on his face and the salt breeze were the only things to have made him feel a twinge of hope in what seemed like a long time.

"We should take him back," said Teyla, worried at how tired he looked.

"No," he said weakly. He wanted to explain, but he had no idea how to even start.

Rodney kneeled down beside the chair, gripping his side as he did so. "Teyla's right, we need to get you back before you fall out of the chair and Carson impales me on something long and sharp. We'll bring you back, I promise. Just remember, Carson will be more receptive to the idea if we get you back in one piece."

John looked at him so sadly that Rodney felt like crying. And Rodney didn't cry, over anything. But he saw understanding in the pilot's eyes and John finally gave a small nod. Ronon reached down and propped him up a bit before wheeling the chair off the balcony.

John's head swam with the movement and he could feel himself sliding over again, but he couldn't seem to right himself. He closed his eyes against the dizziness and swallowed several times in an effort not to lose the little bit of soup he'd managed to get down. He didn't know exactly when he drifted off, but suddenly he was being settled in his bed by Ronon and one of the nurses and he could hear Beckett and Rodney yelling a few feet away.

"Carson, he needed this and you know it. He needs a minute outside of this room, a minute to feel like he's normal again."

"But he's not back to normal, yet, and he's got a long way to go. There's no telling how far you just set him back. I told you we didn't need to rush him too fast or you could hurt him instead of helping him. You purposely went against my orders and I've a good mind to ban you from seeing him again!"

"Stop!" John knew he hadn't said it as loud as he'd wanted, yet at the same time it had come out more forcefully than he'd expected. It was taking everything he had to prop his eyelids open enough to see the men approach his bed, sheepish expressions in place.

"Just . . . stop fighting . . . Carson, I . . . needed that. Please, don't be mad at them. They just . . . wanted to help me." John could feel himself losing control as his eyes drifted and Holland popped into view again. "No," he mumbled, his surroundings beginning to fade away.

Carson grimaced and looked ashamed. "I'm sorry, colonel, I just . . . Rodney and I had discussed this earlier and I told him I didn't think you were up to a field trip just yet. And look at you, you're exhausted."

John focused on Carson and smiled. "I ate soup."

Rodney perked up and smiled. "Yes, yes he did. He ate some soup and kept it down . . . well, at least so far. See, I told you it would be good for him."

Carson nodded and his expression relaxed a little. "Well, if you got some food into him, I guess it can't be all bad. All right, I guess you're off the hook, but don't try that again. And . . . if he doesn't have any repercussions other than being tired, I guess maybe he could take another short trip tomorrow."

"So, no large pointy needles?" asked Rodney nervously.

Carson crossed his arms and stared at the scientist. "No, not this time."

John's eyes had closed and he couldn't get them open, but he managed a small smile. "Thanks . . . guys," he whispered.

Ronon put a hand firmly on Sheppard's shoulder. "You're welcome. Just remember to be patient and concentrate on getting better. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner I can start whipping you back into shape."

John grunted. "Slave driver."

Ronon chuckled. "You should know."

"Okay, that's enough fun. All of you out and let him get some rest." Carson pushed and prodded and scolded until John's team left the infirmary before returning to check his patient. He was happy to find that the pilot seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He shook his head as he looked down at Sheppard. "I'm not sure who's more trouble, you or your team."

oOo

John lay looking at the ceiling for a few moments, listening to the sounds around him as he made the trip to wakefulness. Blinking, he allowed his head to roll to one side and watched the nurses move around the infirmary, checking on patients. It was only a few minutes before one came over to check on him.

"Good morning, colonel," said Lacy, a young nurse with long, blonde hair tied back in a pony tail that made her look like she was in high school. She checked his pulse and then his IV, before fussing with his covers. "I'll just let Dr. Beckett know that you're awake. I think he wanted to talk to you." She smiled before turning and moving out of his line of sight.

John sighed and looked back up at the ceiling, hoping Carson wasn't coming to give him another pep talk, He honestly thought he'd gag if he heard another one. He knew everyone was just trying to keep him positive, but he was beginning to feel like he was trapped in some corny movie.

"Colonel, good morning, how are you feeling?" Carson checked his IV line and he was tempted to tell the man the nurse had already done it. He didn't because he decided it was probably more habit than anything else.

"A little better. Headache's not so bad right now."

Carson nodded. "Good. I'd like to get you up for a walk around the infirmary this morning. We need to start getting you back on your feet so you can begin to build your strength."

John looked up in surprise. "Really?" He didn't feel like he had the energy to make it all the way around the infirmary, but the idea of getting up and getting the blood flowing again had him interested in trying.

Carson was pleased that his patient was showing genuine interest in getting up. "Yes, really. But I want you to try to eat something first. How's your stomach?"

John considered the question. "Well, actually, it doesn't feel too bad. Maybe I could eat something."

Carson grinned and nodded. "I'll get you a little oatmeal and maybe some juice. Then we'll let your food settle for a bit and get you up and about."

"Sounds like a plan."

Carson got up and raised the head of the bed before walking across the infirmary. While John was waiting on breakfast, Rodney slipped in and sat down beside the bed, pulling the privacy curtain just enough he could hide behind it. John watched all of this with fascination.

"Rodney . . . what are you doing?"

Rodney turned from peeking around the curtain to look at John. "I'm laying low."

"Why?" John drawled.

"I'm not taking any chances. Even though yesterday worked out okay, I know Carson was pissed at me for going behind his back."

"Why are you even here?"

Rodney looked insulted. "Well, to check on you, of course. Why else would I be here? How are you, by the way?"

John smiled and Rodney thought it was the most genuine smile he'd seen on Sheppard's face in a while. "I think I feel better today. It must have been our little field trip yesterday."

"Good, now tell that to the witch doctor."

"Why don't you tell me yourself, Rodney?" Carson stood behind Rodney, having come in from the opposite direction the physicist was expecting.

Rodney leaped to his feet, nearly tearing down the curtain he'd been hanging onto. "Jeez, Carson, give me a heart attack will ya? What did you do, use your voodoo to pop in here without making noise?"

Carson just smiled smugly. "No, Rodney, I just walked in here like a regular person while you were standing watch. I wonder what that shows?"

"It shows why we don't let him stand watch when we're off world," said John.

Rodney frowned at John and crossed his arms in annoyance. "_That's_ what I get for coming to see how you feel? You know, I don't have to come all the way down here just to get insulted."

Carson nodded. "I'm guessing Radek will be happy to oblige you in the lab any day."

Rodney looked confused a second before snorting. "You _know _what I meant. So, how is he really?"

Carson smiled as he fixed the curtain Rodney had gotten tangled. "He seems better and I've sent for some breakfast. After he eats, we'll try to get him on his feet for a few minutes."

John looked at Carson. "What about the balcony?"

Carson chuckled. "You're like a dog with a bone, colonel. Rest after we get you up and if you feel like it, you can take a return trip to the balcony this afternoon."

Sheppard's breakfast arrived a few minutes later and Rodney sat back down to keep an eye on his friend. Carson left them alone as soon as he had the tray arranged on the table. John stared down at the oatmeal, his hunger fading fast as his stomach began rolling at the smell. The headache was returning as well and suddenly, he didn't feel nearly as well as when he first woke up.

"Are you going to eat that?" asked Rodney, studying John intently.

John swallowed and picked up his spoon. "Yeah, I'm eating," he said unsurely. He swirled the oatmeal around while he worked up his nerve and finally put a small bite in his mouth. It took work not to gag, but he just kept thinking he had to do this, he had to eat if he was going to get better. He managed to get about half the bowl down under Rodney's watchful eye before giving up. Dropping the spoon in the bowl, he pushed the table away from the bed.

Rodney seemed to get the message, jumping up and pulling the tray table far away from the bed. Peering into the bowl, he turned back to John. "Well not bad actually. Almost half the bowl. We should have you up to normal adult portions by the time you're sixty or so."

John was too busy concentrating on keeping the food down to make a retort, so he satisfied himself by glaring at the man. Carson returned in time to see the look Sheppard was giving McKay.

"Rodney, what have you done now?" Carson looked at the bowl on John's tray, carefully noting how much had been eaten. "Did you eat this or did he?"

Rodney snorted loudly. "He did. What do you think, I came down here to steal food from the tray of a sick man?"

Carson smiled smoothly. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time." Continuing to smile, he moved over to Sheppard. "Colonel, how are feeling?"

John opened his mouth a little, experimenting with his control. Finding it a little better, he answered the doctor. "Not quite as good as earlier."

Carson nodded and used the stethoscope to listen to John's chest. Straightening back up, he looked at his patient. "Headache worse?"

John nodded. "A little, not bad yet though."

"Okay, how about nausea? You look a bit green."

John smiled a little. "There, but getting better. Just give me a few minutes."

Carson nodded. "Okay, let's wait about half an hour and see how you feel. If you're not feeling up to it, we can try this afternoon."

"Okay."

John didn't realize he was dozing until a nurse woke him taking his temperature. He yawned and rubbed his forehead, the headache really beginning to pound. The nausea was still there, but at least he didn't feel like he was about to puke. He hoped he'd be able to keep breakfast down, because he couldn't see eating any lunch.

"Colonel, do you feel like getting up for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, I'd like to actually." John looked around the room "Where's Rodney?"

Carson motioned to the nurse across the room before turning back to John. "He left a little while ago. He said you were sleeping though his best jokes and he was going to the lab to get some work done."

John chuckled as Carson pulled the covers back. "I guess I'll have to apologize to him later. I just can't seem to stay awake very long these days."

Carson helped John swing his legs over the side of the bed. "I wouldn't worry about it. He wasn't actually mad. He just gets bored easily and there wasn't anyone to talk to . . . at least, anyone who would answer. Okay, colonel, I want you to let us do all the work getting you to your feet. Once you get your legs under you, we'll let you set the pace, but lean against us as much as you need to."

John nodded. "Okay, doc, I've got it. Let's do this." With one arm around Carson's neck and the other around the nurse's, John allowed them to lift him to his feet. They kept him steady as the room spun wildly. Just about the time he thought it would never stop, everything seemed to settle down.

"Colonel, how are you doing?" Beckett watched his patient, concern in his voice.

John was pretty sure he was about to lose his oatmeal, but he continued to concentrate on keeping it down while trying to get his vision to clear. He knew if he wasn't being held up, he'd be on the floor in a heap.

"Colonel, either answer me or it's back to bed and we'll try again later."

John managed to find his voice and talk without throwing up. "No . . . I'm good." The pain behind his eyes had tripled with standing, but he was determined to make it across the room once before giving in. "Let's go."

Carson was having second thoughts, but the determination in the colonel's face made him push down his concerns and begin moving. John slid one foot forward and they began their walk across the infirmary. By the time they made it to the other side of the room, John was barely supporting any of his weight, his legs threatening to buckle with each step. Carson gave his nurse a look that told her they needed to get their patient back to the bed.

The stabbing pain in John's temples and behind his eyes had increased to the point that John was seeing dark spots and his vision was graying around the edges. He could feel the sweat running down the side of his face and neck as his legs wobbled. He focused on the bed, on making it back to the bed before throwing up or passing out. The room took on an eerie look, the edges seeming to waver like rising vapors on a hot day. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, blotting out everything else and somehow the bed didn't seem to be getting any closer. Then the pain in his head went off the scale and the gray closed in until he couldn't see anything else and he felt like he was falling, but he wasn't aware of hitting the floor.

TBC

Yeah, I know. I can't help it.


	13. Chapter 13

**HAUNTED - Part 13**

Elizabeth stood next to John's bedside, gaze locked on his pale face. "How is he?" she asked, when Carson appeared at her side.

The doctor sighed softly. "Not getting any better. Since he passed out on us so spectacularly yesterday, he's done nothing but sleep and it's almost like a drugged sleep. I have to admit it's got me a bit worried."

"But he didn't hurt himself when he fell, right?" Elizabeth had asked the question twice already, but John looked so pale and fragile and bruised that she felt compelled to ask it again.

"No, he didn't hurt himself," Carson replied, patiently. "We had a hold on him so we eased his fall. He just took us by surprise a bit."

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes never leaving John's face. "He's getting worse, isn't he?"

There was a long moment of heavy silence before Carson replied. "He's getting weaker. According to the information Rodney found, this did happen in a few extreme cases with the Ancients. And it does seem to have something to do with a specific type of gene, so to speak."

"Which, obviously, John has," Elizabeth interjected.

"Yes, I'd say it's very obvious," Carson conceded.

Finally turning away from John, mainly because looking at him made her want to cry, Elizabeth pulled Carson off into a private corner. "So how much longer is he going to be like this? Shouldn't he be getting better? He doesn't have the flashes hardly at all now."

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Carson then shuffled his feet for a moment, as if trying to avoid having to answer her. But after a moment he gave her the facts. "To be honest, I think the flashes he's having now are PTSS related and Kate agrees with me. But the rest of his symptoms, the fatigue and the blinding headaches and weakness are most definitely the after math of what happened on the planet. However, some of it can be connected to PTSS also. It's kind of a vicious circle effect right now."

"So what do we do to get him better?" Elizabeth felt somewhat exasperated and she realized her tone was sharp but she couldn't help herself.

"We support him and keep doing what we've been doing," Carson replied, knowing that this wasn't what Elizabeth wanted to hear. "The fact that he's so nauseous means he can't eat much and that's making him weak and tired, and the fact that he's basically starving is making the headaches worse and so on. Once again, a vicious circle."

Resisting the urge to grab something and throw it against the wall in frustration, Elizabeth made herself calmly state," Then break the circle."

Carson almost smiled at that. "Yes, that sounds easy enough, doesn't it? Unfortunately...it doesn't work that way."

"What about a feeding tube?" Elizabeth winced as she said it. She'd had an aunt in a nursing home and in the last few months of her life she'd had to have a feeding tube put in. Elizabeth had hated seeing it almost as much as her aunt had hated having it, but it had kept her alive a bit longer, until her heart simply gave out on her.

"I've thought about it," Carson conceded, but he looked disturbed. "It might help or it might not. Fueling the Colonel's body would help him feel stronger and it might actually help ease the nausea and allow him to start eating on his own. I also believe it would probably help his headaches, which helps the nausea factor and so on."

Elizabeth locked eyes with Carson. "Probably?" she prompted.

With a shrug Carson tried to explain. "It would help a bit for certain, but I think the headaches are more from the device and how it messed with the Colonel. And fatigue doesn't help."

"How can he be so tired and worn out when all he does is sleep?" Elizabeth found that hard to fathom.

"It's not a restful or healing sleep," Carson replied. "He's usually either passed out or I've drugged him into sleep."

"I see." Elizabeth did see and she didn't like the picture. "So, what you're telling me is that we really can't do anything but wait."

Carson didn't look happy, but he nodded. "Aye. Just be patient and supportive. Right now it's the best we can do."

Elizabeth patted Carson on the shoulder. She knew he was doing everything he could for John, and the effort he was making showed in the lines on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. "Keep me updated."

"Aye." Carson gave a sad smile then drifted away.

Elizabeth returned to her office, but her thoughts were on Sheppard and not her work.

OoO

John came back to fuzzy awareness. He blinked hard when he saw a blob next to his bed and after a moment it focused into the image of Teyla. She was sitting in a chair with a book on her lap, but she must have sensed he was awake because she looked up and smiled. Then she was on her feet and moving to his side.

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla queried.

"B-bet..." he broke off coughing and couldn't stop until Teyla pressed a straw between his lips and he managed to swallow some cool water.

Laying him back against the pillows, Teyla asked, "Better?"

John nodded, wincing as pain flickered in his temples. It was a more dull pain now, not the sharpness that tended to steal his breath away. "Better," he whispered. He managed to lift one hand off the blanket, but barely an inch, and waggled his fingers in her direction. "No crutches."

"No, I have this now." Teyla reached for the object next to the chair and held it up. A cane. "It allows me to move about more easily."

"Good." John was glad she was doing better. Glad and a trifle jealous. He was tired of being so sick and tired all the time.

Teyla was watching him closely and she touched his arm to draw his attention back. "You must be patient, John," she said, as if reading his mind. "Dr. Beckett is certain you will get better, as is Rodney...but it will take time."

John sighed and fumbled for her hand. It scared him to realize how weak he was that it took and effort just to hold Teyla's hand. "I'm trying," he told her, because he was. It just frustrated him that his body seemed to be fighting against him.

"Colonel!" Carson's brogue interrupted anything John might have said.

"Doc," John replied, hearing how weak even his voice sounded. He said nothing as Carson checked his vitals, but when the Doc was done he asked, "How long was I out?"

Carson clucked his tongue. "Not that long," he replied. "What matters is that you're back with us. How are you feeling?"

John was feeling stubborn. "How long?" he persisted.

"Almost two days," Carson replied, looking chastised.

"Guess that explains the extra IV." John had noticed it attached to the spot just above his left elbow. The second time Carson had put an IV there on him.

Moving to fiddle with that particular IV line, Carson nodded. "More nutrients, Colonel. Speaking of which, do you feel up to eating?"

Eating was the last thing John felt like doing. He shifted in the bed, his muscles feeling achy, and it hit him that the catheter was back which pissed him off. Everyone told him to be patient, but he just kept taking giant steps backwards. If he could just move forward even a baby step, then at least he'd feel like he was making progress. "Not hungry," he replied, almost sullenly.

"Yet you have to eat something," Carson stated. "You know that."

"Why?" John held Carson's gaze and let the anger he was feeling shine through. "What's the point? Is it going to make me better? No! Nothing helps! Not these stupid things!" Before anyone could react, John had ripped the IV out of his left arm, not even feeling the pain of the needle pulling out and tearing his skin.

Carson and Teyla were both on him, trying to stop him from further damage and it shook John more than anything else might have, that they both held him down so easily. John closed his eyes against the sting of tears. "Sorry," he whispered, because he didn't know what else to say.

Teyla held his right arm easily with one hand. The other hand she lifted to cup his face. "It will be all right, John," she whispered.

But he wasn't listening. The pain in his temples was pounding too loud for him to hear her.

OoO

John was surprised when nothing more happened to him but that Carson replaced the IV and then gave him something to make him sleep. When he woke up it was to find a nurse checking his line. She offered him some water and asked if he needed anything. John told her no. He just wanted to be left alone.

He apparently dozed off for a bit, because Carson was suddenly there with a mug of soup. John didn't have the energy to argue with him so he took a few sips, ignoring the nausea that coiled in his belly. He was relieved when Carson patted his shoulder then left him alone.

He dozed off again but woke up with bile in his throat. A nurse appeared in time to get a basin under him and John puked until his insides curled up on themselves. He felt like he was in a haze as he was cleaned up, his gown changed, and someone wiped his face with a cool cloth. He slept again.

Soft voices woke him this time and John felt fuzzy as he stared at the people at the foot of his bed. A moment he blinked them into focus. Beckett and Kate. John wasn't surprised to see her.

Noticing he was awake, both doctors approached him. "How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carson asked.

"Tired," John whispered. His voice felt raw from the puking.

"I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes if you feel up to it," Kate interjected.

John didn't have the energy to argue with her, so he said nothing.

Kate took that to be acquiescence and accepted the chair Carson fetched for her. She watched the Doc leave then she focused on John. "I know you're going through a rough patch right now, Colonel. I'd like to help you if I can."

"Can you make me better?" John blurted out. He didn't expect a reply to that, he was just too angry not to lash out, even though his anger was really directed at himself.

"I can't help your body heal," Kate replied. "But I think I could help you deal with the fact that it's going to take time for you to get better."

John felt like laughing, but it would take too much energy and he had none. "I'm tired," he whispered, letting his eyes close. And he didn't move until he heard her chair scrape on the floor and her footsteps fade away.

Then he left himself drift into a fitful oblivion.

**THE END...of part 13**


	14. Chapter 14

**NOTE: **Another round of thanks to all you reviewers. I'm sorry I haven't had time to respond individually, but it's the end of the semester, meaning catching up on grading, semester test reviews, and making out semester tests. Oh, and keeping up with fanfiction (because you HAVE to do something for fun).

**HAUNTED - Part 14**

Carson sat back in his chair and rubbed his aching forehead. He was out of ideas and almost out of options. If Sheppard didn't keep something down soon, he'd have no choice but to put in a feeding tube. The colonel would not only hate that, but the feeling of helplessness that was currently fueling his severe depression would undoubtedly get worse. Nothing says "I'm helpless," like a feeding tube.

"Dr. Beckett?"

Carson startled out of his fog and looked up toward the door to see Teyla waiting on an invitation to enter. "Teyla, come in, lass. What can I do for you?" He stood as she carefully made her way to a chair and sat down facing him.

"I wanted to talk to you about John. I have talked to Elizabeth and she explained that one thing that is slowing down his recovery is his inability to eat without throwing it back up."

Carson nodded and sighed. "Aye, it is. Poor lad can't seem to hold much down for more than a little while, not even broth. It's making him weaker and weaker, which I think is making his headaches even worse. He feels so helpless and depressed right now, which is not helping matters at all."

Teyla nodded in understanding. "I may know of something that can help. When I was a child, I became very ill with something that made me unable to eat without vomiting for several days. My father made a drink for me that had little taste and no smell and I was able to keep this down in small amounts. It kept me from getting even more weak as my body recovered enough to heal itself. I have not seen it made in a long time, but several of the older ones still live and would probably remember how to make it. I would like to see if that is true and have some made for the colonel."

Beckett's expression lightened and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, by all means. Anything we can get to stay in the colonel can only help. If nothing else, it will just make him feel better about making progress and a positive attitude can make a world of difference."

Teyla smiled, happy to be able to do something to help. "Good. I will ask Elizabeth to have someone take me to the mainland."

"Don't stay up on that leg too long. I don't want you putting yourself back in here."

"I will not be up walking very long and it is worth being tired to help the colonel." Teyla used the arm of the chair to push herself up and leaned against her cane.

"You should take Ronon with you," observed Carson .

Teyla nodded. "I will ask him. He wanted to see the colonel for a minute."

oOo

John could feel someone looking at him before he even opened his eyes. He tried to wait it out, not wanting to see anyone, and more importantly, not wanting anyone to see him.

"I know you're awake, Sheppard." Ronon's deep voice was surprisingly quiet. John opened his eyes to look up at the Satedan.

"Ronon . . . do you need something?"

Ronon stood with his arms crossed, staring down at John almost angrily. "You've given up."

John closed his eyes and sighed. "I haven't given up."

"Yes you have. Never figured you for a quitter."

"I haven't given up," John snapped. "I'm still trying . . . it just doesn't do any good. Everything I do backfires in my face. You just don't understand, I can't save him."

Ronon raised his eyebrows slightly. "Him?"

John looked confused, furrowing his brow as he rubbed the side of head. "I didn't say him, I said me. I meant me. I can't seem to save me." His head throbbed and his mind felt dull and hazy.

Ronon studied Sheppard for a moment, making the colonel decidedly uneasy. "I remember the Sheppard that fought the retrovirus tooth and nail and even managed to harvest iratus eggs when he was pumped full of enough drugs to kill him. I remember the Sheppard that stood up to a Wraith queen and lived to tell about it. I remember the Sheppard that –"

"Enough . . . Ronon, that's enough. I get it. So, now you're saying I'm not trying and that's why I'm so sick." Sheppard managed to push himself up into a sitting position, his face getting red with anger. "You think I _want_ to be like this? You think I want to puke and pass out and sleep all the time?"

Ronon remained calm, watching Sheppard's growing agitation with a neutral expression. "I think you'll have to work to get strong again and you've quit working. You've given into the pain."

Sheppard was so angry, he could literally see red. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears and sharp pain beginning to stab into his temples and behind his eyes. He couldn't believe a member of his team was treating him like a petulant child. He pulled the covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed, not really sure what he was doing, just reacting to the insulting comments.

"Colonel, what are you doing?" Carson 's annoyed voice carried loudly across the infirmary as he rushed from his office to stop his patient's progress.

Teyla hobbled along behind Carson , her face growing dark with anger as the doctor grabbed his patient's arm and began pushing him back into the bed. "Ronon?" She glared at the runner, certain that he had something to do with the colonel's current state. "What did you say?"

Ronon ignored her, but John responded almost breathlessly from where he'd been forced back into the bed. "He says I've quit. Is that what everyone thinks, that I've just given up?" He slapped at Carson 's hands as the doctor fussed with the covers.

"No one thinks that," said Carson, but he didn't sound very convincing.

Sheppard glared at them, his hands fisted around the blanket and his breathing rapid and harsh. "I haven't given up. I'm not a quitter and I better not hear anyone else saying . . . " John frowned, stumbling over the words and gasping as he brought his right hand up to his head. A blinding flash of pain raced through his head, bringing with it a rainbow of blinking colors as the sights and sound around him faded away.

Carson caught the colonel as he tensed and the suddenly slumped over, completely limp. The doctor leaned the Sheppard back against the pillows and straightened his form out into a more comfortable position. "Bloody fools," he muttered as he checked Sheppard's IV lines.

"Ronon, we should go. I think you have done enough." Teyla's expression was still dark and angry, her hope from earlier having dissolved very quickly.

"Hey, I just tell it like it is. You people are babying him too much, making him soft. Sometimes you have to be tough." Ronon was firm in his defense, but not angry. He knew Sheppard's friends meant well, but their coddling wasn't getting the soldier anywhere and it was time to take a harsher stand. He had expected resistance.

"Well, I'm not sure badgering a sick man who's suffering from severe depression is exactly the best course of action," argued Beckett as he turned away from his patient. He looked from Ronon to Teyla. "If you're still willing, you better head to the mainland before it gets late. I don't want you up on that leg too long."

Teyla nodded. "Of course I am willing. We will leave immediately."

"We?"

Teyla nodded. "Yes, we. Come with me and I will explain on the way."

Ronon frowned and, for a moment, Carson was sure he would refuse to go. But he finally shrugged his shoulders and began walking with Teyla out of the infirmary. Carson turned back to his patient and shook his head. "Guess I'd better check your blood pressure and make sure you haven't blown something."

Carson's radio chirped twenty minutes later. _"Carson, it's Elizabeth . Teyla and Ronon just left for the mainland. I thought you'd like to know. Teyla told me about her mission . . . and about the trouble Ronon caused. How's John?"_

Carson sighed. "His blood pressure is a bit high, but everything else looks okay. I guess it was just too much stress in his weakened condition. I don't know what Ronon was thinking."

"_Try not to be too hard on him, he's just frustrated and trying to help in the only way he knows how. He comes from a different culture and they handle things differently."_

Carson eased himself into a chair beside Sheppard's bed and rubbed his face, feeling the pull of the exhaustion that had been steadily increasing over the last few days. What little sleep he'd gotten the last week had been on a cot in his office, and it hadn't been much. "I know, but sometimes I just want to hit him over the head with something large and heavy, not that he would feel it."

"_Maybe Teyla's broth or soup or drink or whatever it is will work."_

"Even if he just keeps down small amounts a few times a day, it would provide a little nourishment to keep him from losing any more ground. If we could just stabilize things a bit for him, give him a chance to catch his breath, maybe he could start making some forward progress again."

"_Let's keep our fingers crossed that Teyla's mission is successful."_

"Aye, because if it's not, the next step is a feeding tube, and I hate to think where we'll go after that."

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**NOTE: **Hey, chapter 15 on the 15th! Okay, so I'm a geek. Hugs to all of you!!

**HAUNTED - Part 15**

Elizabeth sent a Lt. Briggs to fly Ronon and Teyla out to the mainland in a jumper. Once there, Teyla headed straight for Halling's lodgings. He came out to greet them with a huge smile on his face. Ronon stood off to the side, watching them interact. After a few minutes of small talk, he interrupted them.

"We don't have a lot of time here," he reminded Teyla.

"Of course." Her tone was a bit sharp as she was still angry with Ronon for his treatment of John, but she softened it as she turned back to Halling. "I have come on a mission of great importance," she said, then she quickly explained about John's condition.

Halling looked horrified, then his eyes lit up when she mentioned the broth-like drink. "Lennay would remember how to make it," he said. "Come." He herded them down to a lodging several yards down from his own. He called out to the owner. "Lennay, it is Halling. I have come with Teyla to ask you for assistance. May we enter?"

A thin voiced called out, "Enter all!"

Once inside, Halling moved to the old woman who sat near a small fire. She looked to be doing something that resembled weaving, with brown strips of cloth. "Do you remember how to make the Bitta root tea, Lennay?"

"I remember," she replied. "Who is ill?"

"A friend," Teyla interjected, moving slowly to Lennay's other side. "Do you remember Colonel Sheppard?"

Lennay frowned then a crooked smile lit up her face. "Pretty man with strange hair. I remember. He cannot eat?" she guessed.

Teyla shook her head. "No. He has suffered an illness that will not allow him to keep down any food. He grows very weak, Lennay. Will you help us?"

"I will make the tea and you will watch and learn," Lennay said to Teyla. She set aside her cloth then looked over to where Ronon hovered in the doorway. "You!" she called out. "Come help me to my table."

Arching a brow at her, Ronon never the less moved to obey. With one hand he easily lifted Lennay to her feet and guided her over to the table in the corner. He then grabbed a chair and brought it over for Teyla to sit in, as directed, then he went with Halling to collect a few items from others in the settlement.

Teyla felt relief wash over her as Lennay went to work. She watched the old woman grind up roots and a few other items in a bowl, taking careful note of what she used and how much, and in the end she had a skin full of tea and the ingredients to make more.

"Thank you, Lennay," Teyla said, touching her forehead to the old woman's. "I am in your debt."

"Bring Sheppard to visit when he is well and the debt will be paid," Lennay replied as she made her way back to the fire. She collected her weaving and went back to work.

Halling escorted them back to the jumper. "My thoughts are with Sheppard," he said to Teyla. "I hope the Bitta root works for him."

Teyla nodded. "Thank you, Halling. I too hope it works." She did not add how bad things were for Sheppard, she was pretty sure Halling understood that without words. Touching her forehead to his as he bent down, she then allowed Ronon to take her arm and guide her back to the jumper. On the journey back to Atlantis, Teyla clutched the tea in her hands and prayed.

OoO

John felt unsettled. He had passed out again after his confrontation with Ronon and he had dreamed about Holland. But he had also dreamed about Sumner and Everett and other failures. Or what felt like failures to him. He knew that Ronon was right. He had given up. But why wouldn't he? John was no fool. He knew that if he couldn't eat he couldn't get his strength back. He was the one suffering from the weakness. He was the one who didn't have the strength to bat a fly away right now. Not his fault.

"Colonel?"

Blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears, John swiped at his eyes with a shaky hand then focused on Beckett who had pretty much snuck up on him. He saw that the Doc had a mug of something that was steaming. "No," John whispered. The nurse had brought him some broth less than an hour ago and John still felt sore from puking that up.

Carson eyed John with understanding. "I know you're wary, lad...but I want you to try this. Teyla got some recipe from her people. It's some kind of root tea or the likes and it should help you get stronger so you can stabilize a bit. Teyla insists that it will stay down, so there's no harm in trying...right?" Sadly, Carson didn't sound all the convinced and it showed.

"I'm tired," John whispered.

"I know." Carson moved closer and he reached out with his free hand to grip John's shoulder. "But that doesn't mean you've given up. Am I right?" He grinned as John's eyes flashed at him with a touch of fire. "Just take a sip, Colonel, and see what happens. We already know what the worst case scenario is. Maybe this will be just the ticket to turn things around in your favor."

Knowing that Beckett was right didn't make it any easier for John to face another bout of retching. Still, he wanted to get better. He didn't want Ronon to be right. He didn't want to be labeled a quitter. So John reached for the mug, hating that Carson had to help him support it as he took a sip. To his surprise there was no odor to nauseate him and when he took a hesitant sip, there was no taste to upset his stomach. It was pretty much like drinking hot water.

Carson watched him carefully. "Is it all right?" he asked.

"I think so." John took a bigger sip this time then waited for his stomach to react. To his amazement there was no recoil of nausea. His stomach twisted for a moment, then seemed to settle. John let his surprise show. "It's staying down."

"So far." Carson was cautious and understandably so. John was sometimes able to keep something down for almost an hour before it made a reappearance.

Shaking his head, John let a smile curve his lips. "I don't feel sick this time."

A matching smile broke out on Carson's face. "That is good news. Try to get some more in you then." He patiently held the mug while John took a few more sips.

"Enough," John said after a moment. His stomach now felt uncomfortably full and, sadly, just swallowing some water seemed to have sapped him of what little energy he had. John felt sleepy again and he let his eyes drift closed.

"We'll try again in an hour," Carson said, setting the mug aside and fussing with the covers.

"'Kay," John mumbled, then he drifted off to sleep.

OoO

"So the tea is working?" Elizabeth looked hopeful as she stared at Beckett from behind her desk.

"So far." Carson was smiling from ear to ear. "I've gotten a full mug into him and the Colonel said he feels a bit better. Mind you, he's still incredibly weak and he will be for quite some time. But if he can get more and more of the tea into him and it helps him get a bit stronger so that his sleep is better and he's no longer puking, he will start to get strong enough and capable of eating actual food. I think this may be the break we've been hoping for."

Elizabeth felt relief wash over her and it left her a bit teary-eyed. Unabashedly she brushed at her eyes. "How long before he starts showing a marked improvement?"

Carson shook his head. "I can't give you a time," he replied. "We just need to keep taking things moment by moment. My main hope is that this will give the Colonel the hope he's been lacking. And understandably so."

"I hope you're right." Elizabeth felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Can I see him?"

"Come by in an hour or so. He's asleep right now." Rising from his chair, Carson headed for the door. "I'll keep you updated on any and all changes."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you," she called after him. And when she turned back to her files, she found that she was smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

OoO

Rodney had heard the good news about Sheppard. He took it with a grain of salt though, not wanting to get too hopeful only to have that hope dashed yet again. But when he went to visit the Colonel, it was good to see him sipping the tea stuff Teyla had brought him and there was no puking involved. "You look better," Rodney remarked as he moved to Sheppard's side.

"I feel better," John stated, offering a quiet smile.

"Anything is an improvement." Rodney realized he was being insensitive but he didn't care. It was the truth.

John took another sip from the mug then nodded. "Tell me about it. I still feel weak as a babe, but Beckett says if I keep drinking this stuff I should be able to try something more solid tomorrow and then I'll start to get stronger."

That sounded good to Rodney. "Feel up to some company? I have a few minutes. I wanted to run some ideas by you."

"Sure." John smiled and nodded, taking another sip from the mug.

"Great." Grabbing a near by chair, Rodney sat down and launched into an explanation about a new device Lorne's team and brought back from their most recent mission.

From the doorway to his office, Carson watched Rodney and Sheppard, a smile plastered on his face.

OoO

John dreamed about Holland, reliving the failed rescue attempt and when Holland died, his corpse morphed into the image of Sumner. An old and near death Sumner. And that face turned into Ford.

Eyes flying open, John sat up in bed, heart thudding against his ribcage, trying to suck in air through lungs that felt constricted. He was shaking so hard his teeth were clacking and pain thrummed in his temples. He felt like he was dying and he couldn't suck in enough air to call for help.

Shoving back the covers, John ignored the pull of his IV as he swung his feet over the side of the bed. He pushed onto the floor and the moment his feet touched his body crumpled and he fell hard, crashing into the bed table on the way down.

John didn't hear the nurse come running. Didn't hear her call his name. All he heard was the deafening beat of his heart in his ears.

Then the world faded to black.

**THE END...of part 15**


	16. Chapter 16

HAUNTED - Part 16

When Elizabeth entered the infirmary, she didn't need to look around to find Carson Beckett, she just automatically headed for John's bed. Carson stood at the foot of the bed, making notes on John's chart. She eased up to quietly stand beside him, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. Looking down at her military commander, she was saddened to see fresh bruising on the right side of his face, blooming out into a full blown back eye near the upper edge. He was either sleeping or unconscious, she wasn't sure which.

"We got him back to sleep," said Carson, almost as if reading her mind.

"I know you said he fell, but what caused it? What was he doing out of bed?"

Carson sighed and massaged the inside corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "He said he had another bloody nightmare, got out of bed, God knows why, and then he just passed out. When he fell, he fell into the little table we keep by the bed."

Elizabeth realized that the table that usually sat near the wall was gone. "What's his condition now? Did he hurt himself, other than the black eye, that is?"

"No, we got lucky there. He's bruised up some, but he doesn't seem to have broken anything other than his pride. He was very upset as his weakness. The tea is helping, but until we can get the nightmares under control, I'm afraid he's not going to make much forward progress. He needs to talk to Kate again."

Elizabeth nodded. "I agree. Set it up and if he balks, let me know. He may be just tired enough of this he's willing to give her a chance. If not, he won't have a choice."

"I'll go give Kate a call now. Maybe she can swing by this afternoon."

oOo

John startled awake, suddenly rising up in the bed several inches before realizing where he was and letting himself fall back to the mattress. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, unsure of why his heart was racing. If he'd been dreaming, at least he didn't remember it this time. He rubbed his right temple against the throbbing headache, forgetting about his fresh bruises. Wincing, he quickly pulled his hand away.

"Nice shiner."

John glanced to the side to see Rodney approaching the bed, looking very concerned. "Glad you approve," he said, trying to joke although not sounding very sincere.

Rodney stopped near his elbow, staring down at the pilot. "I was being sarcastic."

John raised his eyebrows a little, discovering that the motion was just one more thing that made his bruises hurt. "It's hard to tell with you." The silence grew uncomfortable and both were glad when Carson came up to the bed with a mug of tea.

"All right, colonel, let's see if we can get some more tea in you." He raised the head of the bed so that John was sitting and slid the tray table over his patient's lap. "Drink as much as you feel comfortable with."

John nodded as he wrapped his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth radiating into his palms. "Okay, doc."

"Kate is coming by in a bit." Carson watched John continue to stare into his cup, his expression remaining neutral.

"I've been wondering when she'd back."

Carson glanced at Rodney and then back to Sheppard. "Colonel, we have to stop the nightmares for you to get better and – "

"I get it, Carson," John snapped. "I don't necessarily like it, but I get it. You don't have to explain it to me like I'm three."

"Fine, colonel. I'm sorry. I'll just bring her around when she gets here."

John sat silently until Carson went back to his office and then took a sip of the tea. He waited, letting it settle for a few seconds before trying another. The tea usually stayed down as long as he took it slowly. Rodney pulled up a chair and sat down, continuing to watch the colonel drink his tea. John finally started getting irritated.

"What? What do you want, Rodney?"

After a brief pause, Rodney cleared his throat. "Do you blame me for not getting the device shut down earlier?"

John looked up from his tea, deep frown creasing his brow, in spite of the pain it caused. "No, of course not."

"Why not? If I had figured it out sooner, Borroso and Leonard might still be alive."

"Rodney . . . you did the best you could. The device was alien, it was damaged, and we were all being influenced by it, including you. You did everything you could."

Rodney shook his head sadly, his expression troubled. "But it still wasn't good enough."

John set the cup down a little harder than needed, his annoyance beginning to build. "That's stupid. In spite of what you think, you can't know everything, McKay. You can't anticipate every problem that can go wrong and compensate for it. You can't do better than your best and it's ridiculous of you to expect that from yourself."

"You do," said Rodney sternly, his piercing blue eyes boring into John. "You expect that from yourself."

John looked confused, his mouth moving a few times before he got the sound going again. "What?"

"You expect that you can always save everyone, no matter what the circumstances. You've been having dreams about someone named Holland. I've picked up enough from what I've heard to figure out that he went down behind enemy lines and you tried to rescue him, but he didn't make it."

"What does that have to do with anything?" John tried to distract himself momentarily by taking another sip of tea and then staring into the cup as if studying something there.

"Did you try your best? Did you do everything that you could think of to do at the time?"

"Yes," John said quietly, never lifting his eyes.

Rodney studied his friend's mournful expression. "But you failed."

"Yes." This time is was little more than a whisper.

"So now, guilt is eating you up inside, tearing you apart because you couldn't manage to do better than your best."

John sighed and leaned to one side slightly. "It's not the same, Rodney . . . I didn't . . . I . . . "

"No, colonel, it is the same. It's exactly the same. Tell me, what could you have done differently?"

John hesitated, slowly spinning his half empty mug in lazy circles on the table. "I don't know . . . maybe if we had gone the other way . . . maybe . . . I don't know."

"What if you hadn't gone after him? Would he have lived?"

"No," John replied firmly. "He wouldn't have lasted long enough. They were taking too long. That's why I went after him."

Rodney nodded, leaning forward in his seat. "So, you didn't hurt him any by going for him. If you could go back in time, would you still go in after him, knowing he wouldn't survive anyway?"

John thought a second before lifting his eyes to meet Rodney's. "Yes. No one should have to die alone."

Rodney stood and put his hand on John's shoulder. "Then what do you have to feel guilty about?"

John slowly looked up at Rodney, his face lined with emotional turmoil. "Surviving."

Rodney knew exactly what John meant. He knew that the guilt he often felt over Brendan Gall was most likely survivor's guilt. "Exactly. And if you think about it, it's the same with Sumner. Realistically, you could never have saved him under those circumstances. If you hadn't shot him, he would have died anyway, and it would have been a lot more painful."

John grimaced, his hand automatically going to his chest and rubbing the place where the Wraith had fed. "That I can testify to."

"Oh . . . yeah," said Rodney, dismayed that he had momentarily forgotten Sheppard's experience. Not so much forgotten as just hadn't thought before he spoke. "Plus, Earth might be swarming with Wraith by now."

John just nodded, dropping his hand to his side. He jerked his head up at the sound of approaching steps. Carson and Kate were at the foot of the bed and he wondered how they had gotten there so quickly.

"Rodney," Kate nodded toward the scientiest. She turned to John. "Colonel, I was just coming for a session, but it sounds to me like you may have just had one."

John raised his eyebrows, not believing the implication of her statement. "You were listening?"

Kate flushed slightly, nervously shuffling her feet. "Not on purpose at first. We were on our way over here when we heard you talking. I . . . was intrigued by what Rodney was saying, so I had Carson stop and let him finish. I thought it was best if we didn't interrupt."

John sighed and ran his hand through his hair, bringing his hands up at the crown to pull the short hairs straight up. "I guess."

Kate smiled and looked over to Rodney, how also looked slightly miffed at the eavesdropping by the base doctors. "Rodney, I guess I'd better watch my back or you'll have my job in no time."

Rodney held up his hands defensively. "Oh, no, not on your life. I'm not listening to people whine about their problems all day. It's bad enough that I have to listen to a bunch of half-witted scientists cry-baby and make excuses all the time."

Carson rolled his eyes and Kate turned back to John. "Colonel, I want you to really consider what you two talked about today. Rodney made some very valid points. I'd like to come back tomorrow to get your thoughts on it. You won't get better until you make peace with your demons."

John sighed and pursed his lips for a second. "I guess I'm starting to realize that."

Carson looked down at the mug on the table. Only a small amount of now cold tea remained at the bottom. "You did well with your tea colonel. I'd like you to try some soup or maybe some Jell-o tonight."

"Okay," John said simply.

He seemed distracted to the point that Carson wasn't sure if he'd even heard what he said. "I'll check back with you shortly, Colonel." John just nodded. Carson and Kate turned and walked back to the doctor's office.

After a few minutes, John looked up at Rodney. "Thanks."

Rodney gave a quick nod. "You can be really smart sometimes, colonel, and then other times you can be exceedingly dense. I'm just getting better at slicing through that mental fog you throw up sometimes." Rodney stood and pulled the table away from John's bed. "I've got some actual work to do, so I'll leave it with you."

John lay back against the pillows after Rodney left. Thinking about what Rodney said, he kept coming to the conclusion that Holland would have ended up dead no matter what he did. If his chopper hadn't gotten hit, they would have had a better shot, but there was no way he could predict the lucky shot that took him down. If only there hadn't been as many Taliban, but there had been. Nothing he could have done about that. Nothing he had done, or hadn't done, had caused Holland to die. It had just been a series of unfortunate events, as it were. He'd spent so much time carrying around the guilt of Holland's death that he'd never taken the time to realize that it wasn't actually his fault. The guilt was still there, but of a different variety, one that possibly he could learn to live with. He smiled as he remembered Holland thanking him for coming after him. Somewhere along the way, he drifted off into the first restful sleep he'd had in a long time.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**HAUNTED...part 17**

Elizabeth was smiling at Carson. And with good reason. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had come to her office to deliver good news about John. "So he's definitely getting better?" She had to ask because she wanted a definitive answer. A positive response to give her hope. And she wanted to hear it again and again.

"He's definitely getting better," Carson replied, smiling back at Elizabeth. "Mind you, his recovery is still going to be slow. But he's able to keep soup and toast down and he actually made a complete circuit of the infirmary today. Mind you, he was barely able to stay upright and he would have fallen if Ronon hadn't been holding him, but he made it and that meant a lot to him. He has his hope back."

"So what Rodney said to him helped." Elizabeth made it a statement, not a question.

Carson nodded. "Aye. I think that helped more than anything Kate could have said. And even had she been the one to say it, John wouldn't have accepted it in the same way."

Elizabeth could understand that. She knew that John and Rodney had become friends in spite of their differences, and that they had been through things no one else could understand. "So when will John be back on his feet? Or would a better question be, when will he get out of the infirmary?"

"We're talking at least a week before I can even think about releasing him," Carson replied. "As much as he's healing rapidly emotionally, his body can't heal as fast. It's going to take time for him to get his strength back."

"He's not going to be happy." Elizabeth winced in sympathy at what she knew Carson would have to deal with. John Sheppard did not accept being weak and he would make Carson's life hell until he was back on his feet.

With a shrug, Carson acknowledged the truth of Elizabeth's words. "True enough, but this time I don't think I mind. I'd rather have him fighting with me to get out of the infirmary, than deal with the apathy he was heading for. It's hard to see him so weak."

Elizabeth could not have agreed with Carson more. "It's kind of scary, isn't it? He seems almost . . . invincible at times. So seeing him so vulnerable is...scary."

"I couldna agree with you more." Carson rose from his chair and moved to pat Elizabeth on the shoulder. "At the very least, Colonel Sheppard has a guardian angel watching over him. I need to get back and check on him. Come by later and visit. I'm sure he'd love the company."

"I will," Elizabeth called after Carson. When he was gone she went back to work and nothing that happened for the rest of the day was able to pry the smile off her face.

OoO

John glared at Carson. Four days had passed since his epiphany with Rodney, so to speak. Four days where he had caught up on sleep and had started eating again. He wasn't up to anything more solid than toast and oatmeal, but the dizziness and nausea that had plagued him for so long was gone. And sure he was still weak and couldn't stay on his feet for more than a few minutes at a time, but he was building up strength fast. He wanted out of the infirmary. "I can rest in my room," he argured, for about the twentieth time today.

"You still need an IV and someone to help you to the bathroom," Carson replied. "And don't think I don't know that if I let you back to your room that you won't try and exercise far more than you should. You're staying put, Colonel! And that's final!" And with that, Carson turned and stalked off.

"Sonofabitch!" John hissed, then he smacked his fists into the mattress. He was so wrapped up in his frustration that he didn't realize he had company until fingers touched his arm lightly. John jumped then turned his head to see Teyla standing there. "Hey," he said in greeting.

She smiled at him. "Hello, John. How are you feeling?"

He sighed. "Frustrated." He figured it was best to be honest with Teyla. She knew him far better than he was comfortable with at times.

"You must be patient." Teyla's tone held a hint of chiding. "Dr. Beckett is doing what is best for you. He wants you to get better, but he does not want you to push too hard, too fast."

"I know." John lifted a hand to scrub his face and cursed when the IV needle tugged on his skin painfully. "I hate these things!"

Reaching out, Teyla squeezed his shoulder. "You are feeling restless now that you are feeling better. It is to be expected. You do not handle weakness well. Not in yourself. But you cannot rush your recovery. If you push too hard, you will only do yourself more harm than good."

Because he knew she was right, John made a visible effort to calm himself. He sort of succeeded. He felt less angry, but now he also felt worn out. Which he hated. "I know you're right," he said softly. "I'm just not the most patient guy in the world."

"I know." Teyla squeezed his shoulder again then moved to grab a nearby chair. "I will keep you company for a while, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind." In fact, John was glad she was here. He knew he'd be dozing off soon, but overall he was staying awake for longer periods and he was easily bored. So Teyla's calm presence was most welcome. To that end they chatted for a time and John wasn't even aware of drifting off to sleep.

OoO

The next day found John arguing with Carson again about being released. He didn't want to give the man grief, but he felt like he was going stir crazy just sitting in bed and staring at the same four walls.

It was a long and ongoing argument this time, with John countering everything Carson said. He was feeling wound up enough to argue against whatever Carson told him. And he would have kept it up if Ronon hadn't interrupted.

"I'll watch him for you," the Satedan interjected.

John and Carson stopped arguing and they both swiveled their heads to stare at Ronon in disbelief.

They also countered in unison, "What?"

That was when John noticed that Rodney and Teyla were there too, and Teyla didn't have her cane with her. That pleased John that she was better, but then he made himself focus on the moment at hand. He locked eyes with Ronon. "What are you talking about, you'll watch me?"

"Just that," Ronon replied, with a shrug of massive shoulders. "If Doc releases you to your room, I'll keep an eye on you and make sure you do what you're supposed to do to get better."

"Oh." John started thinking maybe this would be a good idea. He knew he could push himself harder and that Ronon would support him.

But just then, Teyla spoke up. "And I will help, as will Rodney. We have discussed this."

Carson looked surprised, then suspicious. "And what, exactly, have you discussed?"

"Colonel Sheppard is growing restless in here," Teyla replied. "We believe he will heal faster in his own quarters, but we know he will only do himself harm if left to his own devices, so we will watch over him to make certain he behaves."

"Hey!" John protested. He rather liked their idea, but he wasn't fond of the fact that Teyla was making him sound like a two year old.

"Do you want out of here?" It was Rodney who snapped the question at John.

Glaring back at McKay, John never the less nodded. "Of course I do." He looked at Carson and grimaced. "No offense, Doc."

Carson rolled his eyes. "None taken, Colonel." Turning to the trio, he folded his arms and eyed them each in turn, then said, "Have you really thought this through? Because I'm going to tell you right now it won't be a simple matter of just sitting in his room. Someone needs to be with him at all times and he's still very weak. He needs to eat at two hour intervals and he needs to be up and walking at three hour intervals."

"We can handle it," Ronon said firmly.

"Even you, Rodney?" Carson looked at the scientist and skepticism was written all over his face.

Rodney scowled at him. "Yes, yes, even me. I agreed to do my part."

John laughed, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Let me guess, Rodney," he drawled. "Ronon black mailed you."

"Maybe I just want to help, Colonel!" Rodney snapped back. "Did you ever think of that?"

"Ummm..." John made a show of contemplation.

Which Rodney soon interrupted. "Okay, so he black mailed me! But...I...I want to help. Plus I have things you can do during my watch."

Carson shook a finger at Rodney. "Colonel Sheppard needs to rest."

"He will be resting. He can use his eyeballs and henpeck on a keyboard, can't he?" Rodney countered. "If you don't let him at least use his brain he's going to vegetate."

"I suppose he could do that, within reason," Carson allowed, then he shook his head and looked disgusted. "I can't believe I'm even considering this. I really don't think any of you have a clue as to what keeping an eye on the Colonel at this point in his recovery means."

Teyla moved to Carson and touched his arm. "We know. But know that we are his team and that we work best as a unit. We can help him get better faster. I truly believe that."

John believed it too. Of course, he wanted to believe it on the one hand, and on the other hand he was certain that getting out of the infirmary would be a big step in his getting better faster. "I'll be good," he piped up. "Besides which, you took the IV out, so all I really have to do is rest, eat and not push myself too hard. I can do that."

"Maybe." Carson didn't look all the convinced, however. Still, he turned back to the others and asked, "Are you planning on doing shifts?"

"Wait a minute!" John interjected before anyone could reply. "I don't need to be watched 24 hours a day!"

Heaving a sigh, Carson looked at John. "Yes, Colonel...you do. You don't seem to understand just how weak you are. And even though you've been improving steadily, you're open for a relapse. And if you do relapse, it's going to set you back a lot. I don't want that to happen."

John didn't either and he said as much. "I know, and I'll be careful. I promise."

"Either you accept your team watching over you in 24 hour shifts, or you stay here for now," Carson replied, his tone brooking no argument.

"Fine." John was desperate enough to get out of here to agree to just about anything. He figured with Rodney and Ronon he could get them to leave him alone for the most part, so he'd only really have to put up with Teyla watching him like a hawk. He could deal with that.

Carson eyed John for a moment, as if trying to read his mind, but then he nodded. "All right then. You can go after lunch." He turned his attention back to the others. "Now, who has what shift?"

Teyla answered. "I will take the first shift as Dr. McKay does not like getting up early. He will take the next shift and Ronon will stay with John during the night."

"Good. That will work best, I think," Carson stated. He turned back to John. "Get some rest, Colonel. If you behave yourself from now till after lunch, then I'll let Ronon take you to your room. In a wheel chair. Understood?"

"Understood." John knew he was being tested even now and he was going to behave to the letter. At least until he was out of here. And since Rodney would be afternoon shift, he knew he'd be free to do pretty much anything he wanted. "Um, before I'm released can I shower and change into my own clothes."

Carson arched an eyebrow at him. "The shower will be fine, but you'll have company to make sure you're okay. As for your own clothes, you're still going to be in bed, Colonel. I don't think a uniform is appropriate."

John made a face. "I have sweats and t-shirts. So can we compromise? Cause I'm really sick to death of scrubs."

"All right. We'll compromise." Carson patted his shoulder. "I'll send someone to get your things."

"I'll do it," Ronon offered. He nodded at John then trotted off.

Teyla smiled at John then patted his arm. "I will come to see you off this afternoon."

John nodded and smiled back. "Thanks for this. It was your idea, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Another pat on his arm and Teyla drifted off.

Which left Rodney. "You're going to owe me big time for this one, Sheppard."

John nodded. "Fair enough. See you later."

"Yes, whatever." Rodney waggled his fingers then left.

"Colonel?"

Wincing, John looked at Carson. "Yes?"

Carson locked eyes with him, looking both grim and determined. "I'll know if you misbehave. Keep that in mind. Because if you go against my wishes, I'll have you back in here so fast your head will spin. Understand?"

"Completely," John replied. He watched Carson nod at him then the good Doc was called away, but he shook a warning finger at John before he left. John didn't care. Just a few more hours and he would be out of here and back where he belonged.

**THE END...of part 17**


	18. Chapter 18

**HAUNTED - Part 18**

John sat on the edge of the bed, his hair damp and just about every muscle in his body quivering. The shower had felt wonderful right up until the time his legs tried to give out and dump him in the floor. He now understood fully why Carson thought he'd needed a babysitter, or rather a shower-sitter. Ronon could be useful in a variety of ways.

"All right, colonel, are you ready to go?" John looked up from his quiet contemplation of the floor to see Carson roll a wheelchair up to his bed.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he said, hoping no one but him noticed the uncertainty in his voice. He didn't argue when Carson took one arm and Ronon the other to pull him to his feet and move him to the chair. He watched as Carson handed Ronon a piece of paper.

"I made out a schedule of when and what the colonel is to eat, as well as how often to get him up and walking. The mess hall has the food schedule as well, so all you'll need to do is pick it up. Me or one of my staff will be stopping by a couple of times a day to check on the colonel. He is not to leave the room unless you check with me first and he is to stay in bed except for his walks, eating, and tending to personal needs. Someone will need to help him when he gets out of bed for a bit longer, until he gets some of his strength back. Any questions?"

"I have one," said Teyla. She smiled at John as she began. "I know the colonel likes to go out to the balcony. May we take him out there if he stays in the wheelchair?"

Carson brought his hand up to rub his chin as he thought. "Once a day for now and only for fifteen minutes. He stays in the wheelchair and someone stays with him. Anything else?" Carson asked expectantly.

John looked up at Ronon and then over to Teyla. He then glanced over at Carson. "Someone be sure to get my bottle and diapers just in case I need them. And where the heck did I put my rattle?"

Carson rolled his eyes, while Ronon and Teyla just looked confused. "I'm sorry about all this lad, but you've come too far for any of us to take chances. You'll just have to put up with the fussing for a bit longer."

John sighed and looked sheepishly at his friends. "Look, I know you guys are just trying to help me and I'm sorry if I get impatient with you . . . and with me, but this is hard for me. I'll try not to get too annoyed, but I get tired of being treated like a baby."

Carson patted him on the shoulder. "That's not our intention, son, I assure you. But I know what you need for a proper recovery and I need you to trust me on this."

John thinned his lips in an uneven grimace. "Okay, doc, I'll try."

Carson nodded. "Off with you and be good. I'll know if you aren't."

John grinned as Ronon pushed the chair forward. "I know, doc, I know, you keep telling me. Don't worry, I'll be good."

Carson smiled as they left the infirmary, Teyla informing John that Rodney was waiting in his quarters followed by John begging to be taken somewhere else.

oOo

As soon as Ronon stopped the wheelchair beside John's bed, he began climbing out of it. Rodney was there before he got completely upright, grabbing his arm to support him.

"I've got it Rodney," he insisted, trying weakly to pull his arm back. Rodney hung on and shook his head, however.

"Oh, no you don't. You're not falling and hurting yourself on my watch."

John grunted in obvious annoyance, but stopped trying to evade the scientist and allowed him to help him sit on the side of the bed. John sighed and ran one hand through his hair as Ronon moved the wheelchair to the side of the room. Eating lunch, taking a shower, and getting transferred to his room had exhausted him. He was beginning to feel like an invalid. He rubbed his temple at the pain building there, no doubt a result of his recent exertions.

"Colonel? Are you all right?"

John dropped his hand and looked up at Rodney and Teyla, concern in both their faces. He was equally comforted and angered. "I'm fine, just tired. Maybe I should lie down for a while."

Rodney brightened and nodded, immediately moving to help Sheppard lay back in the bed. John, tired of fighting it, just let him help. He smiled a bit in appreciation of the sympathetic look he was getting from Ronon while Rodney covered him with a blanket.

"Can we get you anything, John?" asked Teyla, standing side by side with Rodney.

"No, I'm good. Just going to close my eyes for a few minutes," John said, already feeling the pull of sleep as his body relaxed into the mattress. He could hear their voices, but he had ceased to pay attention to what they were saying. He was just happy to be back in his quarters, even if he had to bring babysitters with him. It was still his room. He was finally home.

oOo

"I see you twitching over there so you can open your eyes now."

John was a bit alarmed at hearing a voice the second he woke up. He tried to remember where he was as he played the 'pry your eyes open' game. Finally managing to win a round, he rolled his head to the side in search of the voice and was rewarded by a fidgety Rodney setting something up at the small table on the other side of his room. He was content just to lie there and watch for several minutes, enjoying the warm, rested feeling you got after a well deserved nap.

Rodney finally wheeled around to check on his charge. "So, you want something to eat or are you just going to lie there all day?"

John grinned and pushed himself to a sitting position, letting the blanket slide down to his lap. "What's to eat?" he asked before stifling a yawn and scrubbing his hand through his hair, spiking any strands that were attempting to lie flat.

Rodney snickered. "Oh, now _that's _attractive. Love the hair, Sheppard." He waved his hand down toward the table. "And for your afternoon snack, we have blueberry muffins and a chocolate protein shake that, I'm told, has actual ice cream in it."

Sheppard's eyebrows shot up and his eyes immediately went wide. "Ice cream? For real?"

Rodney nodded. "Someone from the mess hall just brought it and told me to get you up before it melted because they made it especially for you. Seems you have them all wooed as well."

John pushed the blanket aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Rodney was there before he even got his feet on the floor. John looked up and frowned. "McKay," he drawled. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you to the table."

John looked down at his legs and then back up to Rodney. "Last I checked, my legs were still working. I can make it six steps on my own."

"I'm just trying to help, colonel. Carson said you were still pretty weak and for us to help you around for a few days until you built your strength back."

John sighed. "I know, but I can't build my strength back if you won't let me do anything for myself. Just . . . just let me get to the table, okay? I can do this, Rodney, I can."

Rodney looked uncertain and more than a little scared, but he gave a slow nod and backed up a couple of steps, trying to be ready to catch the pilot if needed.

John stood and, after swaying a brief moment, walked over to the table and sat down. He looked at Rodney as the scientist sat across the table from him and gave him a lop-sided grin. "Thanks, Rodney." John looked at the table. There was a plate with four huge blueberry muffins, still warm to the touch. The chocolate shake was in a large glass in front of his plate and a glass of water sat in front of Rodney's.

"I'm surprised you didn't get yourself a milkshake too." John knew Rodney liked milkshakes because they had discussed it as one of the things they missed about Earth that first year in Atlantis.

Rodney frowned and shook his head slightly. "They didn't bring me one, just you. Apparently saving everyone in the city about four times a week doesn't earn you a milkshake, just having your brains scrambled by some alien device. No appreciation."

John looked at the large glass and knew he'd never be able to drink all of it. It would be a small miracle if he drank half of it. Although his appetite was slowly coming back and he was able to eat enough not to make people laugh at his pitiful portions, it still wasn't exactly normal proportions. "Go empty your water glass."

Rodney looked up from removing the paper wrapper from his muffin. "What? Why?"

John just grinned. "You'll see, just do it."

Rodney took his glass to the bathroom and came back with it empty. John took it and poured half the milkshake into the glass and set it down in front of Rodney. "There."

"You don't have to do that," said Rodney, picking up his glass and trying to pour it back into Sheppard's. John covered the top of his glass with his hand. "No you don't. You drink that. I know you like them and there's no way I'm drinking all of that, not even close. We don't want to waste, now do we?"

John could see the wheels turning until Rodney finally nodded. They both picked up their glasses and took a drink at the same time. John grinned at Rodney's milkshake mustache, until he realized he had one too and they both laughed out loud. A comfortable silence fell as each ate a muffin for the next few moments. Rodney finally brushed crumbs from his fingers and polished off the remaining milkshake.

"Not bad. I could get used to this afternoon snack thing."

John grinned as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Get used to it? You act like this is new for you."

"Well, it is. Okay, so some days I have a bit of a snack, but not every day . . . not lately." Rodney began to look flustered as John continued to grin at him. "Fine, make fun of the scientist again. See if I come back to waste the afternoon watching your scrawny butt."

John was undisturbed by the outburst. "You'll come back if you want a steady supply of the really good snack foods. You've got to admit, babysitting duty comes with a few perks in this case."

Rodney still looked angry, but the look began to fade after a few seconds and he finally nodded in defeat. "Okay, okay, you win. I'll keep coming back for the food. Alas, what has become of me?" The last bit was said with feigned distress as Rodney dramatically placed his forearm across his eyes and threw his head back. At the height of the move, he pulled a muscle in his neck and began to jump around with his head held sideways, massaging the cramping bundle of fibers. John had just taken a bite of muffin and proceeded to spray crumbs across the table as he dissolved into a fit of laughter. Ronon arrived in the middle of this and just stood looking at the dancing, moaning scientist and choking pilot.

"I can't leave you two alone one minute, can I?" he said in all seriousness while placing his hands on his hips, sending John into another wave of hysterics.

Ronon rolled his eyes, a habit John was sure he'd picked up in Atlantis, and walked the rest of the way into the room, picking up one of the muffins as he watched Rodney. "He okay?"

John had finally quit laughing enough to resume breathing. "Yeah, I think he pulled a muscle cramp in his neck. That or he's been taking alien dancing lessons on the DL."

"Yes, well thank you for your concern, both of you. I'm glad to know my well being is nothing more than a joke. I'm probably going to have a crick in my neck for days now," complained Rodney as he sat back down in his chair.

Ronon looked completely unsympathetic. "You're fine, McKay. We gonna get Sheppard up and walking or what?"

"Yes, yes, we're going to do the walking thing. I contacted Carson while sleeping beauty over there was resting and told him I didn't see us walking so much as just turning around in a circle in here and he said we could walk in the hall. Down to the end of the hall and back for now."

John grimaced. The drawback of not being in the infirmary was that anyone walking down the corridor outside his room would see him being helped along like a weakling. On the plus side, his room was the only one down this particular hallway, so very few people used it.

"You ready?" asked Ronon.

John sighed. "Yeah, let's do this." He stood and took a breath, then headed slowly for the door. Rodney came up beside him, but didn't try to take his arm and John nodded his appreciation. Once they got into the hall, the two friends flanked him as they began slowly making their way to the other end. John felt strong the first few steps, but his legs began to quiver slightly about halfway down the length of the corridor. They were almost to the end when he stopped and leaned against the wall, his limbs beginning to feel heavy.

"Colonel, can you make it?"

John might have been annoyed with Rodney if he hadn't been so annoyed with himself. "Yeah, just give me a minute." His teammates waited while he got his breath and then pushed off from the wall. He made it the final few steps and then turned to head back to his room. He was amazed at how long the hallway suddenly looked and was afraid he wouldn't be able to make it all the way.

"Sheppard, we can help you. That's why we're here. That's why we're a team." Ronon's words were spoken simply and evenly. John looked up into the Satedan's sincere expression and nodded.

"I . . . I might need a hand getting back," he admitted softly.

Without another word, Rodney took one arm and Ronon took the other. As they began walking, John leaned against his friends, smiling at the way they comfortably shouldered his weight. He knew now, without a doubt, that he would make it all the way.


	19. Chapter 19

**HAUNTED...part 19**

After three days of being baby sat, John had had enough. He wanted five minutes to himself. When he got testy and Teyla had asked what was wrong and John had explained it to her, she had nodded and expressed her understanding. To that end she gave him an hour to himself, which John appreciated. But he would have appreciated it much more had he not fallen asleep fifteen minutes after she left, not waking until Rodney had arrived for his shift.

When he got testy with Mckay, he was reminded that he got to pee by himself and shower. True, but not helpful. If he didn't come out of the bathroom within ten minutes, someone was always banging on the door or barging in on him. He was frustrated and moody and he knew he needed to get out of his room and spend some alone time. So John had a plan.

But fate intervened and came up with an even better one.

After Rodney arrived with John's dinner, he got a frantic call from Zelenka. Something was wrong with one of the systems and it was serious. Rodney was halfway to the door when he realized he wasn't supposed to leave John alone.

"Go!" John told him, waving a hand at Rodney. "I promise to behave myself."

"I don't know." Rodney hesitated. "Maybe I should call Carson and wait for him to send someone."

Anger flared in John at the realization that even Rodney felt he needed to be watched like he was some baby. Although he knew, the real reason Rodney was resisting was because he didn't want Carson pissed at him. Tamping down on his anger, John forced a smile. "Go do what you have to do, Rodney. If you're not back in an hour I'll call Ronon to take his shift early. Okay? I'll just sit and eat and everything will be fine. I'll be fine."

Rodney still didn't move, but his radio beeped again and after listening to Zelenka for a minute, Rodney was nodding. "Just make sure you call if I'm not back," he cautioned. Then he was running out the door.

Relief flooded through John the moment he was finally alone. Relief and a sense of giddiness. He looked at the food on the table and made a face. He wasn't really hungry and he could eat later. Right now he knew his alone time was limited and that he had to make the most of it. So he headed out the door without hesitation. No radio, no jacket, just the strong desire to be outside for a while.

To that end, John stepped in the transporter and headed below levels. He had explored there a few months back, checking things out for possible habitation and such in the future. There was an enclosed balcony, and being in it reminded John of going to sea World and viewing the sharks and whales through the glass. He hadn't told anyone about one particular section and he knew he could get Atlantis to cover for him. To hide him from any scanners or detectors.

There was a twinge of guilt as John stepped off the transporter, but he pushed it away. He would make a full apology to Rodney later and convince Carson that none of this was McKay's fault. For the chance to have an hour to himself, John was willing to accept whatever punishment Carson would eke out.

Walking slowly down the hallway, and pausing every few minutes to rest, by John's watch it was nearly an hour later when he reached the enclosed balcony. He was smiling as he entered, despite the fact that he felt a bit shaky with fatigue.

The balcony resembled a glass enclosed dome. The temperature was balmy and the floor beneath his feet was warm. John wasn't sure why and he figured he could ask Rodney about it some time. But right now he just wanted to enjoy his solitude. To that end he stretched out on his back on the floor, reveling as the warmth seeped into his achy limbs. Still smiling, John stared at the water above him, washing gently over the dome.

After a time it lulled him into sleep.

He came awake with a start, heart pounding in his chest, the image of Holland in his head but he shook it away, grounding himself in the here and now. He knew where he was. On Atlantis and safe. But a glance at his watch made John groan. He had slept for over five hours. There was no chance of him sneaking back to his room without anyone ever knowing he had gone AWOL. Grimacing, John rose to his feet and stretched out the kinks. His stomach was growling a bit and he felt light-headed. He should have taken time to eat a bit, but he would remedy that with a pit stop at the mess hall before facing Carson's wrath.

His first steps were a bit stumbled, but he got his bearings and his balance and made it to the door. It slid open and John proceeded to the transporter. He felt about a hundred years old by the time he got there. His legs felt weighted down and his body was sluggish.

Cursing his weakness, John stepped into the transporter, smacked his hand over the location he wanted, then he slid down to the floor. He closed his eyes and he was pretty sure he dozed off a minute, but the doors whooshing open startled him back awake. Pushing to his feet, John stepped out into the corridor and decided to head straight for his room. He could eat his cold dinner then take a nap. But he hadn't gone far when Ronon appeared before him.

"Hey, big guy," John offered in greeting. He stumbled and strong fingers gripped his arm to steady him.

"Sheppard," Ronon rumbled.

John sighed. "I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"

Ronon nodded. "You should have radioed me. I would have helped you disappear for a while."

"Really?" John was surprised to hear that.

"Everyone is coddling you too much," Ronon stated. "You need some space."

John nodded at that. "Exactly. Thank you. Can you tell that to Carson when he starts yelling at me?"

A grin appeared on Ronon's face. "I can do that. Don't think he's going to listen though. He's pretty mad."

"Did Rodney fix the systems problem?" John countered. He didn't want to think about Carson right now.

"He says he did. He's pretty mad too." Ronon steadied John when he swayed on his feet again.

Heaving a sigh, John started to nod but it made him more dizzy. "I'm going to have to apologize to him. I really didn't mean to be gone so long."

Ronon wrapped a strong arm around John's waist for support. "I think McKay's a bit impressed too. He can't figure out how you managed to hide from the scanners."

"Atlantis likes me," John whispered, because it felt a bit like it should be a secret. He was going to explain, since Ronon looked confused, but vertigo swept over him. Next thing he knew he was being cradled against Ronon's chest and the Satedan was striding down the corridor.

"Crap," John muttered. Being carried to the infirmary by Ronon did not make him happy. It was not the image the Military head of Atlantis should be projecting. He started to squirm in an attempt to give Ronon the hint he wanted down, but the grip on him simply tightened and when John locked eyes with Ronon, he got a warning glare and an arched eyebrow that made Ronon look like a Klingon. So John stopped squirming.

They reached the infirmary in what had to be record time and John felt his stomach tighten when he caught sight of Carson fast approaching. "Kill me now," he whispered to Ronon.

The Satedan merely laughed.

**THE END...of part 19**


	20. Chapter 20

**HAUNTED - Part 20**

"Put him over here," ordered Carson, motioning toward a bed.

Ronon set John down where the doctor had indicated, whispering to the colonel just before he straightened, "Good luck, Sheppard."

John pulled away from the Satedan, moving back on the bed. "Thanks, traitor," he said sarcastically. He watched as Ronon grinned and shrugged his shoulders as he backed away from the bed. It was then that his gaze went back to the doctor, giving him a shiver. Carson stood with his feet planted a few inches apart and his arms crossed, looking as mad as John had ever seen him. John thought maybe he should start pleading for mercy now.

"Uh, Carson, look, I'm sorry if I worried you guys but – "

"No, colonel, don't say a word. Seven hours. You've been missing almost seven hours. I let you out of here because you promised to follow my guidelines and this is what you do. I arrange for round the clock care, which I want to emphasize that you need at this point in your recovery, and you ditch them and run. Would you like to know what your trust rating is about now? How about negative ten on a one to five scale."

John raised his finger and opened his mouth, intending on defending himself, but he never got the chance.

"You do know that I don't make these rules because I have nothing else to do with my life, right? Actually, I no longer have a life, thanks in part to you and stunts like this. After a long and slow uphill climb, we've finally got you on the right track and you pull something like this. I have no idea how far you've set yourself back, but I can clearly see that you have."

John's face felt flushed and he couldn't seem to lift his eyes from the floor as he sat on the bed, wishing he'd been satisfied with a small trip to a near balcony instead of a hike to the far reaches of the city. Not one of his smarter moves. "Carson, I –"

"Colonel," Carson said sharply. "I said don't talk. You will sit quietly while I examine you and then you will be given some scrubs, which you will put on without complaint. You will inform us of what happened to you while you were missing and then you will eat whatever is set in front of you, again without complaint. You will not give my nurses a hard time and you will do as you are told and you will not, I repeat, will _not_ ask when or even if you may leave. Do I make myself clear?"

John just nodded and looked forlornly at Ronon, who looked almost as surprised by Carson's outburst as he felt. He wanted to call to the big guy as he slowly edged toward the door and beg him to take him with him, but he knew better than to utter a sound. He was just weak and dizzy enough that running for it would be futile. As Carson wrapped the blood pressure cuff a little too tightly around his upper arm, all John could think of was that he'd died and gone to hell and no one had bothered to inform him until now.

oOo

Carson glanced up at the sound of Kelly stepping into his office.

"We got the colonel settled for the night. His vitals still look okay."

Carson nodded tiredly, rubbing the side of his face. "All right. Did he eat much of his dinner?"

"Every bite," she replied, her voice and face kept carefully neutral.

Carson raised his brows, since Sheppard rarely ate every bite of anything when he was in the infirmary, and definitely not anytime lately. "He ate everything?"

"Yes, everything. I think he was afraid not to, even though he turned a nice shade of green towards the end."

Carson studied his nurse for several seconds before sighing. "You think I was too hard on him, don't you?"

Kelly didn't say anything for a few moments, seemingly choosing her words. "I think the colonel is a very private and a very independent man. I think that having someone with him twenty-four hours a day, watching his every move and every bite and even when he slept, was more than he could handle. Heck, after a few days of that, I think even _I_ would have made a run for it. He told us he never meant to be gone that long, that he fell asleep for almost five hours. Personally, I figure that was the best five hours of sleep he's had in a while and it probably did him more good than the hike there and back harmed him. But . . . I'm just a nurse, so what do I know?"

Carson sighed and leaned back in his chair, tapping the edge of his desk with the end of a pen. He finally sat back up and tossed the writing utensil on his desk as he stood. "And in some ways, you are a very wise young woman. Thanks."

Kelly grinned and backed out of the door so Carson could pass. "I know you're angry with him, and in some ways, you have every right to be. But remember he's only human and he's been very frustrated the last couple of weeks. Being so needy and dependent is hard for him, probably harder than anything else he has to do. He really doesn't mean to go against your orders, he just . . . he reminds me of my six year old nephew when he's getting over being sick. His mom will tell him not to run around and play hard because he's just getting over the flu or whatever. But he feels better and he's getting cabin fever, so he forgets and runs around and gets hot, and then he feels bad again."

Carson chuckled. "So, should I tell the colonel that you've been comparing him to a six year old little boy?"

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't matter to me. I already told him."

Carson chuckled even harder as he turned and walked toward Sheppard's bed. His patient was lying on his side, facing the wall, so he stopped right behind the pilot. "Colonel, are you awake?" When there was no answer, he walked around the bed to see John's eyes open, staring emotionless at the wall. Carson sighed and pulled up a chair, sitting down in front of the colonel. "I suppose this means you aren't speaking to me."

John slid his eyes down to meet Beckett's for a second before returning them to the wall. "I was told not to speak."

Carson couldn't help but think of Kelly's analogy and he was amazed at how much a thirty-something year old Air Force pilot could look a lot like a scolded, pouting child. Maybe it was the hair. "I was angry, colonel."

Sheppard didn't say anything for a while, making Carson wonder if he was going to stay clammed up, refusing to say anything at all. Then his gaze shifted back down to meet Carson's blue eyes. "I didn't mean to mess up. When I left, I thought I'd be back before anyone had a chance to get worried. It took longer to get there . . . and then it felt so good to be alone . . . and I fell asleep." Sheppard exhaled a long, shuddering breath as he moved his eyes back to the wall. "You're right to be angry. Everyone rearranged their lives to take care of me and I screwed everything up, yet again. I'll just stay here and I won't argue this time."

The sound of defeat in Sheppard's voice and the look of despair on his face was enough to make Carson completely forget his anger. "Look, colonel . . . maybe we could call a truce."

"No need. It was never a fight, Carson, and I was never angry with you. It's me that continually screws up, not you. I'm too impatient and impulsive. But I'll be good now."

Carson shook his head, becoming frustrated with the unexpected turn of events. "Colonel, what I meant was, why don't we compromise. I . . . may have overreacted a bit at your little adventure." Carson hung his head and ran his hand through his hair, standing most of it on end. "I sometimes get a little overprotective when someone I care about has been through a particularly bad situation. I should have recognized that we were smothering you. Why don't we start again with a new plan. Let me see how you do tonight and in the morning and we'll take it from there. I won't give any on what I feel you need for your recovery, but I might could ease up on the twenty-four hour surveillance. Maybe we could cut back to small segments of having someone with you with some nice breaks of personal time in between."

John's eyebrows lifted a little and his head came off the pillow a couple of inches. "Really? We could do that? Even after . . . you know?" He looked almost like he was afraid to hope it was true.

Carson smiled. "Aye, I think we could do that. You've been getting better and you aren't having as much trouble eating as you were. I should learn to trust you more and maybe you would trust me back."

John looked relieved as he lay his head back down and shifted over to his back. "Thanks, doc. I just . . . I'm really sorry."

Carson stood and stepped up closer to the bed. "No. colonel, no more apologies. What's done is done and we've worked through it. What's important is that we've both learned from it."

John nodded, wincing a bit as the motion stepped up his headache. "I have."

Carson smiled and patted him on the arm. "All right then. Now, do you think I could get you to tell me how you feel? The truth now, lad, no sugar coating."

"Mostly really tired, but I've got a little bit of a headache."

"Nausea?" asked Carson.

John took a breath and seemed to be considering the question. "Not really nausea, just a little queasiness, like when you eat too many sweets or something. It's getting better as I lay here. I think I ate too much dinner."

Carson grinned sheepishly. "Kelly said she thought you were afraid not to eat everything."

John looked at the doctor, a slight twinkle to his eyes. "Let's just say I wasn't taking any chances."

Carson grunted. "Sorry about that, colonel."

"Hey, no apologies, remember? That goes both ways. Carson, I know it doesn't seem like it sometimes, but I really appreciate all that you do. I know you only do what you think is best and sometimes I get headstrong about disagreeing with you, but when push comes to shove, I trust you with my life. We all do. And we know we could never be in better hands, not in two galaxies."

Carson gave a small laugh. "Well, if you're sucking up, you're doing a good job." His expression sobered quickly. "Thanks, colonel. Sometimes we all need to hear things like that. Lay still and I'll get you something for that headache and then I'll let you get some sleep."

John watched Carson as he walked across the infirmary. "Thanks, doc," he whispered.

oOo

Elizabeth stepped into the infirmary and stopped, glancing around and listening for tell-tale explosions. She spotted John, propped up in bed with a breakfast tray in front of him. Kelly was just walking away as she approached. "Is it safe?" she asked the nurse and they passed one another.

Kelly nodded and grinned. "It's safe. I think they've negotiated an agreement they can both live with."

Elizabeth gave a big sigh of relief. "Oh, good. From what Ronon said, I was afraid I needed to post guards in here."

Kelly laughed as she returned to her duties and Elizabeth continued on to John. "Hey, I hear we have more than one runner around here."

John let his fork of eggs drop a bit as he made a face at her. "Funny. Ronon already came by to see if Carson had me on a catheter and in a gown. To tell you the truth, there was a moment last night when I thought that was going to happen."

Elizabeth laughed as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Kelly tells me you two have worked something out."

John nodded as he swallowed. "Yeah, we talked for a while, smoothed things over. Look, I really didn't mean to stay gone that long. It was supposed to be a short trip so I could be by myself for an hour. But I fell asleep and . . . well, you know the rest. I'm sorry, Elizabeth, for everything."

"I know. Ronon has explained to us all that we've been smothering you to death and we should give you some space. Maybe we should be apologizing to you. We were just all so worried, you were so sick for a while and we . . . we were afraid of losing you, if not physically, then mentally."

"It's all right, you were just trying to help me get better. And in the beginning, I needed the twenty-four hour service, but I'm better now and I need the space more. I think Carson understands now, so he's going to cut me down to several visits a day instead of someone being there every minute. I can get around on my own a lot now, so I'll be fine. And I get to start taking walks twice a day with someone. We're starting at twenty minutes each, but he said I could add another ten minutes every other day as long as I didn't get too tired."

Elizabeth grinned, her heart singing with the excitement in John's voice. "You sound pretty pleased with the arrangement."

John nodded. "Oh, I am. It's the first step to getting back to a normal life. I still have to eat like six meals a day since I can't handle too much at one sitting, but I can live with that for now. I'm sure it'll work itself out in time."

Elizabeth's expression sobered a little as she leaned forward in her chair. "Just remember to take it easy and don't overdo it. You don't want to set yourself back."

John frowned as he looked down at her. "I won't. Why does everyone keep telling me not to push myself too hard, like that's the first thing I'll do when I get out of here?" He looked at her for about two seconds. "Never mind, don't answer that."

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**NOTE: **To those of you who didn't think the Carson/John scene in the last chapter was in character for either man, I take full responsibility for that. It wasn't meant to be Carson as a bully and John cowering in submission. My thoughts were that Carson had a lot of built up frustration at not having his advice/orders taken seriously combined with worry for what that might do to his patient and he'd just had enough of it and decided to lay down the law for once. As for John, I saw his reaction as guilt, knowing that he had lied to his friend and gone against medical orders. The worst part was that now he realizes he didn't have to do that to get some time alone, all he had to do was to trust his friends and talk to them, so he's feeling pretty foolish. I apologize to those of you who think I basically goofed that scene up. ----- Titan5 ------

**HAUNTED...part 21**

John fiddled with his lunch. He knew he was supposed to be eating it and he was getting evil glares of warning from one of the nurses he wasn't familiar with, but he didn't have any appetite. He felt too guilty to eat. And the cause of his guilt came barreling into the infirmary, as if conjured up.

Wincing, John watched Rodney stomp over to his bed. "Hey," he offered in greeting, because he felt pretty much at a loss for words.

"You lied to me!" Rodney was pissed and not even bothering to hide it. Not that he was one to hide anything he was feeling.

"I know...sorry." John wasn't sure what else to say. "I told Beckett not to blame you for what happened." He added that hopefully.

Rodney scowled at him. "He didn't blame me. And why would he? I'm not the one that lied!"

The volume of Rodney's voice made John's head hurt and he waved a hand at him in a shushing gesture. "I'm sorry, Rodney. Really. I didn't mean to lie to you. That was wrong of me."

"You know what makes it so wrong?" Rodney countered, as he fisted his hands on his hips and continued glaring at John.

"What?" John figured it was best to just play along. Rodney had earned his anger, after all.

A huff of surprise from Rodney, maybe because John was being rather meek at the moment, then the scientist was blurting out, "It's that you planned it all along. I know you. You planned on cutting out on me when all you had to do was ask and I would have let you be by yourself, or walked you to the balcony and covered for you for an hour or so. Something! All you had to do was ask!" And then, just like that, Rodney seemed to deflate.

John felt guilt rush over him in waves because he realized, just like with Ronon, that his friends would have supported him in every way and he hadn't trusted them enough. He was an idiot. But he did have a reason for his idiocy, and he hoped it would be apology enough. "I didn't want you to get into trouble, Rodney," John explained.

"Heh." Rodney didn't look impressed, although he did snag a nearby chair and sat down. "I heard Carson reamed you a new one."

"At first," John allowed, letting himself smile a bit because he could tell Rodney wasn't pissed at him anymore and they were going to be all right. "But now he's agreed to give me more space."

Rodney nodded. "I know. We've been over the new schedule. I have a four hour shift in the afternoon now."

A soft sigh escaped John. He couldn't help it. Not being watched 24/7 was going to be great, but he still hated the fact he needed a keeper. Hated it mostly because he knew he really did need them around. "You don't have to do this, Rodney. I'm sure Carson could assign a nurse. I know you're busy."

"I want to do it." Rodney's tone was soft but firm. He meant what he said.

"Thanks." John didn't know what else to say. Not that he could have said it. A huge yawn caught him off guard.

Rodney chuckled. "Looks like someone needs a nap," he commented.

Resisting the urge to glare at Rodney, because the man was right, he was tired enough to fall asleep on the spot. Still, John made a show of being wide awake, resisting the urge to scrub at his eyes. "I'm tired of being stuck in here," he complained, because he knew McKay would understand.

"When do you get out?" Rodney countered.

"Hopefully tomorrow." John whispered the reply because he saw the nurse fast approaching and he was afraid he would jinx it if she overheard him.

Before Rodney could respond, the nurse was there, fussing with John's covers. "Time for some rest, Colonel," she stated firmly, turning cold eyes on McKay.

Rodney was out of his chair and backing away in a heartbeat. "See you tomorrow!" he called out to John, but he threw an overly dramatic wink at John before departing hastily.

Which made John happy. He knew Rodney would be back later, maybe with his lap top and they could play a game or something to relieve his boredom.

"You didn't eat, Colonel," the nurse chided as she checked his vitals.

"I'll eat later." John got cut off by another yawn and he let his eyes drift closed. Rodney wasn't mad at him anymore and he'd be back to his room tomorrow. For now, life was as good as it gets for John and he was content to drift away.

OoO

John was reading when the knock sounded on his door. "Come in!" he called out, expecting it to be Ronon. But to his surprise, it was Elizabeth. He waved her over, sitting up on the bed and swinging his legs over to give her room to sit. Plus he felt less invalid like sitting up normally.

Elizabeth moved to his side, smiling. "How are you feeling, John?" she asked.

"I'm good." He meant it. He'd been back to his room for three days and having his team on half shifts gave him the space he needed. He didn't add that it was harder being on his own than he had expected it to be. He'd ended up on the floor, due to weakness, more than once. Not that he'd ever say anything to anyone, especially Carson. He knew Teyla and Ronon had guessed though. Well, Teyla had guessed. Ronon had caught him on the floor just yesterday, too weak to get up on his own. But he hadn't said anything about it, not even to John. For which John was grateful.

"You look good," Elizabeth replied. She moved to sit beside him. "I talked to Teyla." She said it casually enough.

But John knew exactly what she was leading up to. He'd been walking with Teyla yesterday when he'd suffered a bit of a meltdown. His knees had buckled on him, unexpectedly, and he would have hit the floor had Teyla not caught his arm. At which point John had pulled away, ended up on the floor anyway, and had nearly busted his hand when he threw a punch at the wall. Would have busted it for sure had Teyla not snapped his arm at the last second. Instead he just had a set of sore knuckles that only hurt if he rubbed them. "What did she tell you?" John asked, because he knew Teyla wouldn't have tattled on him. But she would have answered Elizabeth honestly, if asked the right question. Elizabeth had a way of doing that.

Locking eyes with John, Elizabeth said softly, "She said you were having difficulties adjusting to your...weakness."

"Guess you could call it that," John allowed. Then he decided he owed Elizabeth the truth. "I hate not having control over my own body! It drives me nuts that I can be walking along and then..boom. My legs give out."

"Because you push yourself too hard too fast, John." Elizabeth held up a hand to stop him from responding. "Let me finish. I've talked to all of your team and the gist is that you're pushing yourself too hard. I know you want to get better as fast as you can, but you have to listen to your body. It's going to heal at its own leisure. The only one that told me you were doing fine was Ronon, and even he admitted you needed to back off a bit. Maybe." Elizabeth was smiling as she said that, but it soon faded. She reached out and touched his arm. "You have to be patient, John. If you push too hard you'll just impede your recovery.

He knew that but he hated hearing it. Over and over again. Beckett was like a broken record on that subject. "I just...I feel like my world has narrowed down to these four damn walls!" He gestured to his room. "Atlantis just doesn't feel big enough right now."

Elizabeth nodded. "I have an idea that might help," she offered.

"I'm listening." At this point John was ready to try anything.

"How would you like to spend a few days on the mainland with Teyla's people," Elizabeth replied. "You and your team. I think you all could use a change of scenery."

John knew his team sure could. He knew Ronon, in particular, was itching to get back through the gate. So he rather liked this idea. "You serious?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Very. I've discussed it with Carson and Kate and they both think it could be helpful in your recovery. But keep in mind, you have to behave yourself. Carson is even talking about going along. Things are a bit slow right now and I think he's still worried about you."

"Figures," John muttered beneath his breath. But he still liked the idea. Anything to get out of here for a while. "When can we leave?"

"In the morning?" Elizabeth stood up then reached out to squeeze John's shoulder. She gave him a look of understanding.

Which he appreciated. "Sounds like a plan. Can we go for a week?"

Elizabeth laughed. "How about we go for three days and see how you're doing. We can extend it from there."

"Fair enough." John knew not to push it. "I promise to be good."

"I know you promise," Elizabeth allowed. "But let's see what happens." With that she left the room.

John smiled and went back to his book, only to find himself drifting off to dreams about fresh air and sunshine on a tropical beach.

**THE END...of part 21**


	22. Chapter 22

**NOTE: **Thanks for the continued support and reviews. There will be an end to this thing, we just aren't there yet.

**HAUNTED - Part 22**

John walked out of the back of the jumper and took in a deep breath. Squinting into the sunlight, he smiled a bit at the feeling of warmth that it provided, both inside and out.

"Colonel Sheppard, Colonel Sheppard!" called Jinto as he ran toward the team making their way down the ramp. A slightly shorter boy ran behind him and Halling followed farther back.

"Hey, Jinto!" John couldn't help breaking into a big smile at the boy's exuberance. "What are you and Benen up to?"

The two boys stopped and paused to catch their breath while the team unloaded their packs from the jumper. "Father said you were coming to stay for a few days. We came to see if you wanted to play football with us this afternoon."

Teyla appeared beside John, looking down at the boys. "I'm afraid Colonel Sheppard has been very ill, Jinto. He's here to help gain his strength back. I do not believe he will be able to play football this trip."

"Most certainly not," said Carson as he walked out behind them with his pack in one hand and his medical bag in the other.

John felt almost like he'd been kicked when he saw the look of disappointment on the boys' faces. It wasn't just disappointment in not playing football, it was disappointment in him and his weakness. "Jinto . . . maybe I could throw you guys some passes after while," he offered, ignoring the glare he was getting from Carson.

Jinto smiled a little, looking slightly less sad than a moment before. "Sure, that'd be okay I guess."

Halling finally caught up to the group as they headed into the village. "Jinto, I told you not to be bothering the colonel this trip. He's here to rest."

"We're sorry Father." Jinto looked up at Sheppard and waved. "Bye Colonel Sheppard. We hope you feel better soon." He nudged Benen in the side and the two boys began walking quickly away, whispering to one another.

John let his glance slide to the ground, feeling particularly pathetic. Teyla slid her arm around his and he was aware of his team exchanging pitying looks. It was official, John had graduated to big time loser.

"They are boys, John, they do not understand what you have been through. They will come around."

"Yeah," he muttered, mostly so they could move on and he could forget that he had just moved from honored warrior to weak has-been. He knew it was a pride issue, but he still felt as though someone had just dug a pit and shoved him in. He concentrated on keeping his pace fast enough not to be left behind in the short walk to the Athosian settlement.

A few minutes later they arrived at a large tent set near the edge of the village. "This is to be your dwelling," said Halling, opening the door and holding it aside for them to enter. John, Rodney, Carson, and Teyla entered upright, but Ronon had to duck a little.

They entered the spacious room to find it had four areas around the outside that were almost like alcoves, each with a small bed and table. A flap was pulled back and tied, but was capable of being loosened to act as a partition between the small rooms and the central area, thus giving them each some privacy if desired. The central area contained a table and some chairs, as well as an area of pillows and furs for sitting on the ground.

"There is a bed for each of you," said Halling, waving his hand toward the little rooms. "I hope you will find this acceptable."

"This is great, Halling. I really appreciate you taking us in like this. I hope we . . . I hope I won't be in the way," said John.

Halling smiled. "We are happy to provide a place for our friends and allies and no, Colonel, you will not be in the way. I hope you are helped by your stay here."

"Uh, aren't we one bed short?" asked Rodney.

"I am staying with Danae, a friend from my childhood. We have not been able to visit in a long time and I thought this a good chance," explained Teyla. She looked back at Sheppard. "Is this a problem?"

John shook his head. "Gosh, no, I think that's an excellent idea. We can, you know, do guy stuff."

"Guy stuff?" asked Teyla, her eyebrows raised.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Great, knowing Conan and Shameless Sheppard, that probably means endless burping, passing gas, and scratching . . . uh, private areas." He suddenly grabbed the bag he'd dropped and headed for one of the side rooms. "I call this bed."

John and Ronon stared at each other a minute before Ronon grinned mischievously. "I'm thinking this could be fun."

John returned the look, his spirits beginning to lift. "I'm right there with you, big guy."

Teyla put her hands on her hips. "You two, do not spend the whole time torturing Rodney. I will expect you to behave."

Ronon smirked as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Now where's the fun in that?"

"You know, I'm feeling better already," said John playfully.

Teyla might have been more angry, but that was the most relaxed smile she'd seen on John's face in a long time. A small sense of normalcy had returned and she knew it was what he needed. "Just try not to give him a heart attack or a strike."

John frowned a moment before grinning. "Uh, you mean a stroke."

Halling chuckled as he looked at Rodney sitting on the bed, bouncing and talking to himself and the two soldiers giving each other evil grins. "Teyla, I believe you were wise to find other dwellings."

Teyla nodded. "I have learned some things in the past three years." She turned back to John. "Lennay wants to visit with you later. She is the one who made the Bitta root tea for your stomach."

John nodded and smiled a little. "I guess I owe her a very big thanks. That stuff really seemed to make a difference. And I owe you too, for thinking of it."

"You have already thanked me, John, and you are very welcome. I am just glad it helped. We will see Lennay at the noon meal. But now you need to rest. It has been a busy morning."

"Aye, I'll second that, colonel. You don't want to overdo it and tire yourself too much," said Carson, still in full doctor mode.

"All I do is sleep any more. I don't feel like taking a nap right now." John looked away from Teyla's watchful eyes, feeling like a stubborn child.

Halling came to his rescue. "There are chairs just outside the tent. Perhaps he could rest out there with his friends. You do not have to sleep to rest."

Carson considered this and then nodded once. "All right, I suppose that will work."

John grinned, happy to be getting his "rest" while not having to actually lie down and go to sleep. Truth be told, he was so tired he felt like falling down, but he just couldn't stomach going to bed again. "Sounds good to me. Ronon, which bed do you want?"

Ronon shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Me either. I'll grab this one then." The three men placed their bags on their respective beds and Rodney joined them as they all went outside to sit down.

"Here, colonel, take this chair. It is the most comfortable," said Halling.

John recognized the chair because he had fallen asleep in it on more than one occasion. It was terribly ugly and easily the most comfortable one in the Pegasus Galaxy. The back leaned back at a gentle angle that allowed one to rest your head on the back without feeling like you were lying down. It was a deep chair with soft cushions and was very similar to an easy chair.

"I love that chair, but I can't get myself out of it." The main problem was that it sat close to the ground. That, combined with the deep cushions made for a hard climb when you went to stand up. Not an easy feat when you were weak and recovering and that was definitely John right now.

Halling patted the chair. "We'll help you colonel."

"Oh, just shut up and sit down, already," complained Rodney.

"Fine, I'm sitting," John acquiesced. As soon as he was seated, the exhaustion overwhelmed him. Within minutes, the voices around him began to fade.

oOo

The sounds of voices and clattering faded in, muted and far away sounding. When John opened his eyes to see what was going on, he realized he must have fallen asleep. The chairs around him were empty and the sun was much higher in the sky. The shade had moved and the sunlight now warmed him from the chest down.

Searching for the sounds that had first filtered in, he saw the Athosians laying out a meal on long tables toward the middle of the village. They had large community meals once or twice a week and nearly every meal there were Lanteans in their camp. As he watched them, he saw Teyla among the women bringing food to the tables. She was laughing and talking with a young woman who looked to be about her age. John smiled as he realized how relaxed and happy she seemed and he was glad they had come to the mainland.

The men stood talking around the perimeter of the area and he searched until he spotted Ronon and Rodney. They kept stealing glances at the filling table and looked as though they were plotting something. Ronon finally ambled away and seemed to casually stroll past the food table, reaching toward the plate on the end as he did so. An older woman slapped his hand before it touched the food and scolded him, wagging a finger toward his face. She was about half his size, but she sent him packing with his tail tucked between his legs back to Rodney, making John laugh. Rodney was laughing it up at the Satedan's expense until the big man glared at the scientist and undoubtedly wielded some sort of threat, resulting in Rodney's expression sobering instantly.

John went to scratch his head when he discovered his arm trapped beneath a blanket. Teyla, no doubt. He sighed, but smiled as he did it.

"Colonel Sheppard, you are well?"

John leaned forward and looked around the chair back to see Halling approach and pull up a chair to sit beside him. "I'm good," he said as he leaned back into his own chair. "Looks like we're about ready to eat." His stomach growled loudly and he grinned as he patted it, discovering that he was actually starved. Something new and definitely good.

Halling laughed. "Yes, and it seems that it is a good thing."

"Yeah. I haven't heard that in a while. Maybe it's the fresh air."

Halling nodded and leaned back. "It is good to be outside. It helps clear the mind and makes us realize that we are all only a small part of the space around us." He looked pointedly at Sheppard. "Sometimes we need to be reminded that we are not in control, that we cannot always help the things that happen to us or those we care for. For those times, we can only accept what has happened and let ourselves heal."

John let his gaze drift down. "That's easier said than done," he said quietly.

Halling patted him on the knee. "And that is what we have friends for, to help us during those times. But to truly receive a gift, you must accept it. It is hard to help someone who will not let himself be helped."

John finally looked back up at Halling. "So, exactly what has Teyla told you?"

"Enough."

John sighed and rubbed the side of his head, listening to his stomach growl again.

"Teyla is motioning for us to come. The noon meal is ready and I fear we had better get food into your stomach soon."

John grinned and patted his belly again. "You got that right." He began trying to push himself up out of the chair when a hand appeared in front of him. He stopped and looked up at Halling as the Athosian looked down in interest. John took the hand and allowed the man to pull him to his feet. "Thanks."

"There is only honor in helping a friend. And there is only honor in accepting help from a friend."

John nodded, but winced at the way Halling was looking at him. His clothes hung loosely off him and he was thankful no one could see that he had been forced to cut an extra notch in his belt so he could cinch them tight enough to keep his pants up. He'd caught sight of himself in the mirror before they left and knew that he looked a bit like a starving refugee.

Halling looked back up at John and smiled, not a patronizing smile, but one of comfort. "Come, colonel, let's get some food into you. We're going to fatten you up this week with some real food."

John tossed the blanket into the chair and began walking beside Halling. "Fatten away, my man. Nothing would make my team or a certain doctor happier."

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

**HAUNTED...part 23**

John managed to eat about one-fourth of the food that had been heaped on his plate. Which was to say he felt incredibly over stuffed and a bit nauseous. Carson was watching him, looking worried.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" he asked, as John pushed away from the table and stood up.

John lurched a bit, grateful when Ronon gripped his arm to steady him. He nodded to Ronon then focused on Carson's question. "I'm good," he said softly. "Could I go for a walk?" There was a touch of pleading in his tone. John was pretty sure if he didn't walk or do something, he was going to hurl.

Apparently Carson got the hint because he nodded. "I'll come with you though."

"I'll go." Ronon pushed Carson back into his seat. "I can carry him back if he collapses."

"That's fine," Carson replied, looking both relieved and grateful.

John, on the other hand, was a bit pissed. "I'm not going to collapse!" he snapped, glaring at Satedan. "And no way in hell are you to carry me, ever! Got that?" John shook a finger at him for good measure."

Ronon simply shrugged. "Ready to go or not?" he asked.

"I"m ready." John made eye contact with Holling. "Dinner was great, thank you," he said, sincerely.

"I am glad," Holling replied. "Enjoy your walk."

Grinning, John nodded. "I will." That said, he waved at Rodney and Teyla, then he headed out with Ronon right beside him.

They walked in silence for a while, until John stumbled a bit.

"Time to head back," Ronon said, catching John by the arm to steady him.

"Not yet." John winced, hearing a slight whine in his tone.

Ronon stopped walking, drawing John to a halt since he still had him by the arm. "We go back now or I will end up carrying you back. Your choice."

What pissed John off was that he knew Ronon was right. His muscles were trembling, he felt shaky and exhausted and if he tried to go any further he was totally going to go down. It was a bitter pill to swallow. "I hate this," John whispered.

"You can't make yourself stronger by pushing too hard," Ronon replied.

"You're the one who thought they were coddling me!" John countered, glaring at the Satedan.

Another shrug of massive shoulders, then Ronon was steering John back towards their lodgings. "They backed off, now you need to be realistic. Push too hard and you'll make yourself worse instead of better."

It galled John that Ronon was being the voice of wisdom. Galled him to the point where he yanked his arm free and made a show of turning around to go the other way. He was going to walk a bit farther, under his own power, if it killed him. But he didn't make it four steps when he was swept up off his feet.

"Put me down!" John demanded, as he found himself cradled against Ronon's chest.

"No." Ronon tightened his grip as John struggled against him, then strode off. Back to camp.

When he realized Ronon wasn't going to give in and put him down, John stopped struggling. He felt exhaustion wash over him like a heavy wave, smothering him, until whatever strength he had felt like it was slowly ebbing away. To the point where he drifted off and only came back to awareness as he was being laid out on his bed.

Blinking hard, John made to roll on his side. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep in this moment, but Carson was suddenly there, hovering over him.

"Colonel, how do you feel?" Carson queried, fingers gripping John's wrist to take his pulse.

"Tired..." John whispered, because it would take way more energy than he possessed to speak up. "Just...tired." He let his eyes drift closed. Let himself slip into darkness.

OoO

The moment Carson was certain that John was fine, just exhausted, he herded everyone outside.

Rodney was the first to speak up, and he directed his focus on Ronon. "What the hell did you do to Sheppard?" he demanded.

"Didn't do nothing," Ronon replied, not in the least bit intimidated by Rodney's anger.

"Hush, Rodney," Carson interjected, patting McKay on the shoulder. "The Colonel is just worn out, nothing more than that. If that's anyone's fault, it's mine. I let him do too much."

Rodney snorted. "Yeah, cause taking a nap and eating dinner is enough to make someone pass out from exhaustion."

From the shadows of the quickly darkening sky, Halling appeared. "It is enough when Colonel Sheppard is weary in both mind and body," he interjected. Then he was nodding to them all and asking for forgiveness. "I do not mean to intrude, but I wanted to check on the Colonel's condition." He looked at Carson. "I heard what you said."

"The Colonel will be well enough come morning," Carson allowed.

"We will keep better watch over him tomorrow," Teyla spoke up.

There was a moment of silence, where words did not seem needed as they were all in agreement. Until Halling shattered the moment. "I wish to help the Colonel to heal," he said softly.

The look on Rodney's face was priceless. "And how do you expect to do that? Yak sacrifices?" He didn't mean to be rude, but he was worried about Sheppard and when he was worried his acerbic nature intensified.

"I wish to take him on a Seevala," Halling replied, glancing over at Teyla, who held his gaze and nodded.

"What is a Seevala?" Carson echoed, doing a fair turn with the unfamiliar phrase.

Halling looked at Teyla. "Perhaps you would like to explain it? I will go and prepare things." With a bow to them all, Halling slipped away into the darkness.

Rodney turned to Teyla, looking impatient. "Halling isn't planning some voodoo ceremony thing, is he?"

"No, Rodney," Teyla said firmly. "The Seevala is a journey where the mind and body come together to heal. John is at cross purposes right now. His mind and body are not in harmony and it makes it harder for him to find the patience to heal. But he lacks the spiritual center that is needed as well."

"Oh brother," Rodney drawled, disdain clear in his tone. And he rolled his eyes for good measure. "Sheppard isn't into all that spiritual healing stuff. He won't be interested in that particular journey."

Carson seemed to be in agreement. But for different reasons. "The Colonel isn't strong enough to make any journey," he protested.

Teyla moved to Carson and touched his arm gently. "He would travel in a wagon. Halling has been to Edar and he traded for a Vith."

"Vith?" It was Rodney who echoed her.

"It is similar to what you would call a horse on your world, only bigger," Teyla replied.

Ronon was nodding. "Big beasts of burden. A pair could probably haul a jumper."

Carson's eyes went wide. "Sounds impressive."

"They smell." Ronon made a face as he spoke.

"Halling would take good care of John," Teyla said, firmly bringing the conversation back on track. "I think it would do him good."

Looking uncertain, Carson played the devil's advocate. "It's not that I don't trust, Halling...but the Colonel still has health issues that I need to keep an eye on."

Teyla took his concerns seriously. "John can take his radio with him. I will show Halling how to use it. If there is trouble in any way, they can contact us and we can reach them in no time with the jumper."

"That's true enough," Carson allowed. He looked at Teyla, his eyes dark and serious. "Do you think this might help the Colonel? I know he's getting so frustrated at being so weak that it's starting to affect him both physically and emotionally."

"You mean it's making him mental, don't you?" Rodney interjected, sounding cross. Then he was flapping his arms at Carson. "You aren't honestly considering letting him go, are you? Sheppard has the world's worst luck. You let him out of our sight and we'll never see him again!"

Ronon swatted Rodney on the back of the head, in the way he had seen Sheppard do a few times. It shut Mckay up for all of ten seconds.

Rodney blinked at Ronon, rubbed the back of his head, scowled, winced, then said loudly, "Owwwww! What did you do that for?"

"I don't think it's up to any of us," Ronon stated, folding his arms over his chest. "I think we should let Sheppard decide if he wants to do the Seevala or not."

"I agree," Teyla chimed in.

Rodney glared at them both then looked at Carson.

Carson closed his eyes then nodded. In the end it was Sheppard's choice. He just hoped the Colonel would make the right one.

**THE END...of part 23**


	24. Chapter 24

**NOTE: **Sorry to post this chapter so late. We've been REALLY busy today. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!! Santa will try to drop off another chapter tomorrow (or actually, later today).

**HAUNTED – Part 24**

John was pretty sure his fingers were leaving indentions in the bottom of the wooden seat as he desperately tried to keep from being catapulted out of the wagon. If it was possible to be shaken to death, then driving through fields that have never known a road in an old wagon was most definitely the way to do it. John enjoyed going off road on a dirt bike or in a four wheel drive, but this was a different world entirely. He was relatively sure that all his teeth had been rattled out of their sockets by now. The real problem was the amount of energy it took to tense his body in order to stay in the wagon. They had been traveling for several hours now and he was completely exhausted. Closing his eyes, he focused on staying upright and on the hard seat beside Halling.

"Colonel?"

John opened his eyes to realize the wagon had stopped and Halling was standing on the ground beside him. He wasn't sure what was more amazing, the fact that he had zoned out that much or that he had managed to retain his death grip on the seat. Loosening his hold, he brought his hand up and flexed and extended his fingers to restore circulation.

"We here?" asked John as he looked around at what looked like an old campsite. They were in a grove of trees, an old campfire site nestled between some fallen logs.

"No, this is our rest site. We stop here for the mid day meal and to refresh ourselves for the remainder of the trip." Halling extended his hand to help John down from the wagon.

John accepted the help, knowing without it he would most likely end up on the ground in heap. His legs folded up on him the moment he was out of the wagon, but Halling seemed to be expecting it and had his arm around the colonel before he slid down very far. John was both grateful and annoyed, longing for the day when he wouldn't be so predictably weak.

"Thanks," he mumbled as Halling helped him to sit down in front of a tree where he could lean back against the trunk.

"No problem, colonel. I am sorry about how rough the trip was. We have not traveled this way in a long while and I had forgotten how uneven the ground can be. We will eat and rest and you will feel better."

John winced and looked up at Halling. "No offense, but eating is the last thing I want to do right now."

Halling smiled and nodded. "I know how you feel, but your stomach will be better once it has been still for a while. Rest here and I will start a fire. By the time I finish, you will be hungry."

John sighed, not really believing Halling, but not wanting to argue the matter either. "Okay," he said simply. The truth was, he needed to take a leak so bad he felt like his eyeballs were floating, but he knew if he stood up, he'd immediately fall over. He didn't really feel like he knew Halling well enough to ask for help with something so personal. It was humiliating enough when Rodney or Ronon got stuck helping him out, but at least they were members of his team. He sighed again, regretting the two cups of coffee he'd managed to sneak when Carson wasn't looking. Maybe this was fate slapping him upside the head for cheating.

John closed his eyes against the headache that had been slowly escalating all morning, prodded, no doubt, by the wagon ride from hell. Although his bladder still felt like it was about to explode, he was surprised to find his stomach starting to settle. Maybe Halling had been right about that.

He dozed for a few minutes, startling awake at the loud clatter of wood being dumped on the ground beside the old fire site. He jerked his head up to see Halling smiling sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you."

"It's okay," said John, leaning his head back against the tree. He watched while Halling started the fire and then put some water on to boil. The Athosian then went to the wagon and dug around in the back, returning with a handful of stuff a few moments later.

"We will have tea in a few minutes if you'd like. And to eat, you can have one of your MREs or some left over stew."

John thought about it for a few seconds before replying. "I'll go with the stew and just water to drink. Not much of a tea guy. And, speaking of liquids, I have an errand to run." Now that he no longer felt like his body was caught up in the middle of an earthquake, he decided he could probably take care of business by himself. Leaning against the tree trunk, he slowly climbed to his feet.

Halling simply nodded. "I'll warm the stew."

It was almost an hour later when they had finished eating and Halling had loaded everything back into the wagon. John was beginning to feel useless again, having offered to help and been immediately turned down. He got to his feet and made his way over to the wagon, resigned to being treated like an invalid yet again. He put one hand on the side of the wagon in order to climb up to his seat, but before he could continue, Halling's hand appeared on his shoulder, holding him back.

John turned to face Halling. "What? Aren't we ready yet?"

"Yes, we are ready, but you need to ride the rest of the way in the back. You are tired and we still have a long way to go."

John bristled, his breathing and heart rate going up. "I'm fine. It's just sitting on a bench."

Halling smiled at him like he smiled at Jinto when he was explaining something, which only served to fuel John's anger. "It is more than just sitting, as you well know. The way is rough and you are tired. I do not want to have to tell Teyla that I let you fall out of the wagon and hurt yourself."

"I'm not going to fall out of the wagon. I told you, I'm fine and I'm not riding in the back."

Halling sighed and looked down for a moment. "Colonel, you are very stubborn, just as Teyla has told me. You will ride in the back and rest or we will not continue today."

John frowned and shook his head. "No, we have to go the rest of the way today. We told everyone we'd be back in three days. That's one day to get there, one day to do this Seevala thing, and one day to get back."

"Then you will ride in the back." Halling's voice and expression were firm. He placed one hand on John's shoulder again. "You must be properly rested to make your journey. And I cannot guarantee your safely if you ride in the front in your current condition."

John stood looking at Halling, knowing he was right and yet still wanting to fight for the right to sit up front. He was so tired of being the weak link. Sighing and shaking his head, he finally looked down and agreed. "Fine . . . I'll ride in the back." He followed Halling to the back of the wagon and looked in. Several boxes of supplies were lined up on the left side of the wagon. A large stack of furs and blankets covered the floor of the right side.

"You may lie on the furs and rest while we ride. Then you will be ready for your journey when it is time."

Sheppard just gave a small nod and climbed up into the wagon, easing himself down on the soft covers. He felt a bit numb as he listened to Halling getting into the front of the wagon. A few moments later, they began rumbling across the uneven ground. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, resting on his side and looking at the boxes as they bumped around just a few inches away, before he finally dozed off.

oOo

John awoke suddenly, sitting up partially as he sharply drew in a breath. Realizing where he was, he let himself fall back into the soft mass beneath him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rub away the images of the Wraith bombarding Atlantis, killing his friends while he tried in vain to stop them. When the wagon slowed to a stop a few minutes later, he turned to look at Halling. "Are we there?"

Halling shook his head. "Almost. Now that you are awake, I thought you might like to ride back up here."

John hesitated, surprised by the offer.

"Are you coming, or should I continue?"

John sat up and moved toward the end of the wagon. "No, I'm coming." He climbed into the front section a few seconds later and looked over at Halling. "Thanks."

Halling merely nodded and signaled the Vith to begin moving again. An hour later, they pulled up to a cave entrance tucked into the side of a hill. The two men got out of the wagon and stretched their tired muscles and joints. John kept his hand on the wooden side for a moment until he was sure his legs wouldn't buckle, and then walked over to the cave and stepped inside.

The cave was elongated, eight feet wide and almost twice as long with a small opening at the back that seemed to lead to another chamber. Halling stepped in to stand beside him. "We will stay here. Let me unload and then I will get the evening meal and make preparations for your journey."

"I don't guess you would let me help?" John asked hopefully, wishing he didn't sound so pathetic.

Halling studied him for a moment before smiling and nodding. "Yes, I could use your help."

John was a little afraid of the feeling that washed over him. He wasn't even sure what it was. Happiness? Relief? Appreciation? It didn't matter because it felt good and he practically bounced as he stepped outside to grab a box of supplies.

oOo

Halling crawled through the small opening in the back of the cave. He'd been in and out of the back chamber several times in the past few hours, refusing to tell John what he was doing. He got to his feet and stood before the colonel. "I am ready. We will begin tonight."

John looked up from his position sitting on a stack of furs and blankets set up as his bed. "What? Tonight?"

Halling nodded. "Yes, tonight. I think the results will be better if we begin now."

John wasn't prepared, at least not mentally. He wasn't willing to admit, even to himself, that he was a little afraid. "I don't know, maybe we should wait. I'm kind of tired and I have this headache . . . "

"Take off your shirt and shoes and come with me." Halling didn't wait for a reply, moving back through the small entrance instead.

John just sighed and pulled off his shirt and shoes before following Halling. The second chamber was small and cramped, less than half the size of the other. There was a fire built in the center of the room, with candles spread all around. The room was hot and John was glad Halling had told him to remove his shirt. The small room smelled heavily of something like incense.

"Sit." John looked where Halling pointed to see a pallet of blankets and furs against one wall. He sat down as directed and looked up to find Halling handing him a cup. "Drink this. It will relax you."

John looked at the cup and back up at Halling. He started to protest, but the look Halling was giving him squelched the desire, so he turned the cup up and drank. He was nervous, but he knew Halling would never hurt him. When he was finished with the bitter liquid, he set the cup down and looked up to find Halling sitting on a similar pile of blankets on the other side of the room. Halling crossed his legs as John had seen Teyla do many times. He nodded to John to do the same, which he did.

"You know, I'm not real good at this meditation thing. I kind of had to do it for about six months not long ago, and I just didn't seem to take to it." John thought back to the days of endless meditation at the cloister and how often he seemed to sleep through the sessions, when he wasn't bored into running football plays and math equations in his head.

Halling set his hands on his knees and looked across the room at John. "You must relax. Take a few deep cleansing breaths. Breathe in through your nose and then let the air out slowly through the mouth. You will then close your eyes and empty your mind."

John could hear Rodney in his head telling him that emptying his mind should be easy and he almost laughed. But he took several deep breaths, breathing in and out as instructed. It made him feel a bit woozy, so he opened his eyes to get his bearings. The room seemed to be swaying back and forth and John wondered if Halling had drugged him. The rocking was making him nauseous, so he closed his eyes again. He drifted for a while, his mind in a haze. Some time later, he opened his eyes and blinked a few times, looking around to see that he was alone. John rubbed his face and stared at the pallet across the way, empty and mocking him.

He was hot and a little angry that Halling had just left him there alone. He was about to get up and go find the man when movement at the entrance caught his attention. Thinking Halling was returning, he opened his mouth to question the man, but stopped short when he saw it wasn't Halling. What appeared to be a large wolf stood in the chamber entrance. John froze. He had no weapons of any kind. Looking around, he realized the worse he could do was throw candles at the canine.

The wolf slowly approached and John held his breath, trying to be as still as possible in hopes that the animal would leave him alone. The wolf stopped in front of him and stared at him, icy blue eyes looking almost straight through him. The animal leaned forward, sniffed, and then sat down. John could hardly believe it. A wolf had taken up residence so close he could feel its fur tickling his elbow. While he was contemplating yelling for help, the animal suddenly nudged his leg and then got up, walked over the cave entrance and paused. John watched as the animal looked back at him and then seemed to wait. When John didn't move, he trotted back over to the pilot and nudged his arm this time, and returned to the entrance to sit and wait.

"What are you, Lassie?"

The wolf let out a light yelp and then stood back up. John was starting to feel giddy. "What is it, girl? What, you say Timmy fell down the well?" He couldn't help it, he laughed.

The wolf growled and came back to John, nudging him in the side so forcefully that he almost knocked him over. He pawed at John's leg a couple of times and then trotted back to the entrance. John looked at the animal for a few seconds before crawling over to the small hole.

"All right, I'm coming. But I don't have shoes on, so we aren't going far. I'll really be in trouble if I run around outside and cut up my feet." He followed the wolf through the opening and into the next chamber and then out into the night. He walked a few feet out and stopped, but the wolf continued to walk ahead. Stopping a few seconds, he lost sight of the animal. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned around only to find the animal sitting right beside him.

"Crap!" he said, jumping a little. "How did you do that?"

The wolf once again used his muzzle to nudge John's leg and then trotted off through the trees. Sighing and shaking his head, he followed. "McKay had better not ever find out about this." He had to jog to keep up with the animal. He was surprised at how good it felt, getting his body moving again. He just barely kept the animal in sight as he ran faster and faster.

He had no idea how long they had been running, when he suddenly broke through the trees to see the wolf sitting beside a stream. Covered in sweat and panting, he was tired, but not on the verge of collapse as he would have expected. What was going on? The wolf turned his head to watch John as he came up beside it to stop.

"Okay," John drawled. "What are we doing here?" He watched as the wolf looked across and down the stream. The bank on the other side was a steep cliff, much higher ground than where he stood. It was so dark, he couldn't see much until it almost seemed as though a cloud had moved from in front of a full moon, illuminating the ground below. Two figures made their way forward, the first staggering as though injured while the second hurried to catch up.

John started to take a step forward, but the wolf moved to block his path, growling and baring his teeth. John held up his hands defensively and stepped back. "Okay, I get it. I'm not supposed to interfere, just to watch." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "And I'm standing here talking to a wolf. I've really lost it this time. They're so going to lock me up in a padded room and throw away the key."

The wolf sat back down and looked across the stream. The second man caught up with the first and reached out a hand to help. But the first man pulled away and lurched forward, obviously trying to make it on his own. There were sounds of scolding, and although John couldn't hear the words, he recognized the tone all too well. The first man staggered badly again and was caught by the second.

"Why doesn't he just let him give him a hand? He's obviously hurt or sick and needs help." The wolf turned his head and caught him off guard by licking his hand. John looked down in amazement, wondering if he should pet the animal. Sounds from across the river pulled his attention away from the animal beside him. He watched as the first man continued to refuse help from the second, until he finally pulled away so forcefully that he fell. He'd been close to the edge and in seconds, his legs were over the cliff and he was hanging onto the edge by his fingers. John gasped and instinctively moved forward, once again finding his way blocked.

"Move, he needs help," he pleaded, trying to forcibly shove the wolf aside. The sounds of shouting and clattering stones make him look back across the water. The man hanging off the side of the cliff was actually batting the other man's hands away and trying to pull himself up on his own.

John was mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him. "Stubborn idiot," he mumbled. "Why would anyone do that?" He seemed to be frozen to the spot, staring until the man finally struck the other man in the face, knocking him back as he lost his grip and fell to the rocks below. John turned away at the sound of the sickening thud, only to find everything swirling and a distinct feeling of falling. He automatically threw his hands out and suddenly felt fur under his fingertips.

John opened his eyes and looked up to the ceiling of the cave. He was covered with sweat and shivering, his hair matted to his head and the furs damp beneath him. He turned his head and found Halling sitting on his mat, watching him. "Have I been anywhere . . . like . . . out in the woods?"

Halling shook his head. John thought he saw movement at the cave entrance and snapped his head around to see nothing but the light of morning beginning to slide across the floor. "You didn't see anything, like maybe a wolf, did you?" he asked as he looked back to the Athosian.

"I did not see the wolf. He must have been your Catori, your spirit guide. I hope your journey was profitable."

John looked at Halling blankly for a few moments. "Spirit guide?" He let his head fall back to the pallet. "Crap."

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

**HAUNTED...part 25**

After his little spiritual adventure, John felt like he had gone ten rounds with a Wraith and lost. He was so tired that not even threats from Halling could keep him awake enough to eat. So he slept, and he dreamed. Dreams that felt as real as his little adventure with the wolf.

By the time John woke up, he got the message. He was being stupid giving everyone such a hard time about trying to help him. Stupid and making it harder on himself and everyone. Basically he had some apologizing to do when they got back.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?"

John turned his head to see Halling squatting beside him, holding out a water bottle. He took it gratefully, downing a few swigs before feeling up to replying. "Tired but good," he replied.

Halling nodded. "You slept for a long time, but I believe it was a healing sleep."

"I need to...um..." John refused to blush and he knew it was stupid to be embarrassed about nature calling, but he couldn't help it.

Thankfully, Halling did nothing more than help him to his feet and over to a section of bushes where he'd have some privacy. His task completed, John made his wobbly way back to the wagon. Halling held out a flat, pancake like object, and John accepted it. He was hungry enough to eat a hockey puck, but he knew that the geda was actually quite tasty and he enjoyed every bite of it.

Halling watched John eat, smiling with satisfaction. "Do you wish more?" he offered.

"No..thanks. Maybe later." John patted his flat stomach. "Not as much room in there as there used to be."

"You will remedy that as time goes by," Halling countered. He had gathered up their things while John ate and they were ready to travel again.

John looked at the wagon. He felt better over all, but still worn out. To the point where he wasn't sure he could stay awake if he rode in the front. Despite the bumps. "Maybe I should ride in the back for a while," he offered.

Which, apparently, met with Halling's approval. The Athosian didn't comment, but he did support John over to the wagon and helped him settle in and get comfortable. "We will take our time going back," he stated. "Rest, Colonel. And if you wish to talk later, I will be happy to listen."

"Maybe I'll take you up on your offer," John replied, and he kinda meant it. He did have some questions about what happened. But for now he wanted nothing more than to sleep again. To that end he let his eyes drift closed. He didn't hear Halling climb aboard and cluck to the Vith to start moving.

The dreams came again, different this time. No longer warped images of his past. This time he dreamed about Atlantis and the people there who had become his friends. His family. He dreamed about the missions that had ended positively, and of the good he had been able to do. The lives he had saved.

But he was abruptly pulled out of those dreams when the wagon jolted and a couple of the boxes fell on him. One corner hit him rather hard in the ribs and he cried out in pain. He heard Halling shouting as the cart continued to jolt, tossing him around under he managed to grip onto something for purchase. It was then that John realized they were racing along. He didn't know a vith could move that fast and he heard Halling shouting for it to slow down. He hoped it would soon because the rutty road wasn't made for speed and the wagon actually went airborne for a minute.

John felt the wheels land hard and then the cart was tilting and he was sliding, then falling. Then there was darkness.

OoO

He came to awareness slowly, painfully. Everything felt like it hurt. Breathing hurt. But John forced his eyes open, wincing as sunlight pierced them. Carefully he lifted a hand, arm aching, to shade them. It took a moment for him to remember where he was. Taking a moment to assess his pain, John shifted his body. Thankfully nothing seemed broken, but his left side felt sore and he was pretty sure he had bruises everywhere. But he wasn't broken. Which was a good thing.

Sitting up? Not so good. Once he was upright, John had to clothes his eyes and dig his fingers into the ground until a bad bout of vertigo passed. He was left with a lingering sense of nausea as he rolled over onto his hands and knees then slowly staggered to his feet. Bad idea.

Without warning his knees buckled and John found himself on the ground, once again on hands and knees. He stayed there for the moment, lifting his head to assess his surroundings. To his left he found what he was looking for. The cart and the vith. But no Halling. John's stomach clenched with fear and the adrenaline rush that washed over him was enough to get him on his feet and moving.

"Halling!" It hurt to shout, but John did it anyway. He reached the cart which was overturned, falling carefully to his knees, feeling rocks poking into him painfully, but not caring. Underneath the cart was Halling. "Hey...you with me?" John asked, reaching out and hoping to find warm skin. Thankfully he could reach Hallings left arm and there was a pulse.

"I am with you, Colonel," Halling replied, his voice hushed and hoarse.

John could tell the man was in pain. "You stuck?" Looking at the way back corner of the cart looked like it was wedged between a rockfall and a tree, John was pretty sure that was the case. Otherwise Halling would have been up and about already.

A moment's hesitation then Halling said, "My leg is trapped. I think it may be broken."

"Okay...let's find out." Shuffling back, John prepared to rise again but long fingers gripped his wrist.

"You must be careful, Colonel," Halling cautioned. "Do not wear yourself out."

John freed his wrist then patted Halling's arm. "I'll be careful," he promised. He smiled then backed up till he could stand. Which gave him another headrush. Once it passed, he glanced at his watch and realized he must have been out of it for a couple of hours. And he must have hit his head. Not so much a realization because of the way it ached and there was a sore spot on his temple when he rubbed at it, but because he had forgotten all about his radio. All he had to do was contact Rodney and his team could come get them with the puddle jumper.

The radio had been in the front part of the cart, with Halling. Carson had insisted on that, so that Halling could check in if needed. So John went back down on his knees next to his fallen companion. "Halling...have you seen the radio?"

"No. I tried to find it by feel," Halling replied. "I can't find it."

"I'll get a flashlight and see if I can locate it." John moved, slowly, to the back of the cart and searched for the flashlight. Only to discover the bulb had smashed. Which meant it was useless. John muttered a curse, then swallowed a yelp of surprise when a loud bleep from his right startled him.

It was the Vith. The animal was still hooked to the cart. John went to it, his fingers feeling clumsy as he undid the harness. He left the halter and reins attached, tying off the end to the back of the cart. He didn't want the animal running off. Patting the soft head, John then went back under to Halling. "No light," he said. "Um...what happened anyway? Last thing I remember is a bumpy ride then nothing." As he spoke, John rubbed at his head again. He was feeling lightheaded and he realized it was probably from hunger as much as the bump on his head.

Halling sighed softly. "My fault, Colonel. I was singing to myself and something startled the Vith. He ran and I lost control. I didn't even have time to warn you."

"Shit happens," John replied, reaching out to pat Halling on the shoulder. "We'll figure something out." He felt himself lurching sideways and gripped the side of the cart to stop himself from falling over.

"You must rest," Halling said, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

John wished he could curl up right there and go to sleep. But Halling needed him. "Carson sent a medkit and it'll have something for pain," he stated, pushing back up to his feet. He went out around the cart and searched for the kit. Nothing. So he made a wider sweep and found it about three yards away, caught in a bush. A quick check inside and, thankfully, nothing looked damaged. Returning to Halling, John pulled out a syringe of morphine. "This will help with the pain," John said, as he gave Halling the injection. He watched as the Athosian's eyes fluttered closed then he leaned back and let his own close for a moment.

He would rest, just for a moment, then he would figure out a way to get them back home.

**THE END...of part 25**


	26. Chapter 26

**HAUNTED – Part 26**

John opened his eyes and lay for a moment, looking up at the sky. He rubbed the side of his head, wincing as his fingers hit a bruise. Letting his head turn to the side, he was a bit startled to see the cart lying on its side. Sitting up suddenly, he moaned when it felt like someone had dropped an anvil on his head, straight out of some bizarre cartoon. The world spun violently and he swallowed several times against the rising nausea. When his surroundings settled down and stopped trying to move without him, he leaned one hand against the wagon for support as he climbed to his feet. Another wave of dizziness had him almost laying on top of the cart for support. When he was finally able to stand on his own, he lurched several feet away to wrap one arm around a tree for support while he wretched onto the dirt and leaf litter.

The rough bark pressed against his cheek and bruised temple, bringing him back to awareness. Pushing away from the tree he'd been hugging, he staggered back over to the wagon to check on Halling. Kneeling beside the trapped man, he checked his pulse and was relieved to find it strong and regular. He guessed he hadn't been out long since Halling was still feeling the effects of the morphine. He sat looking at the situation and trying to nudge his brain into moving beyond the fuzz that now seemed to engulf it. He had to think. More importantly, he had to find the radio and he had to get Halling out from under the wagon.

John struggled to get back to his feet. Leaning over, he got his hands under the edge of the wooden cart and tried with all his strength to pull the wagon off Halling's leg. He pulled and strained until the pain in his head flared and sent him to his knees. Leaning his face against the rough wood as he squeezed his eyes shut, he willed himself to push the pain aside. Everything faded for a while and he awoke to something wet on his face.

John opened his eyes to see his wolf licking the side of his cheek. Startled, he pulled back a bit and the animal stopped. He realized he was lying on his back beside the wagon, but couldn't remember lying down and that scared him. The wolf pawed at his arm and he looked back up at the canine.

"Uh, we're still friends . . . right?" John asked nervously. He tried to pull even further away, but found himself trapped between the animal and the cart. His head throbbed so relentlessly that his vision blurred. He groaned as he eased his head back down to the ground, feeling the haze pulling him under again. A few moments later, the wolf began licking him again, prodding him out of his lethargy.

"Stop . . . ach, this is worse than McKay. At least he's annoying without licking me." John was now more awake and making moves to pull himself up into a sitting position. The wolf sat beside him, watching him warily. John rubbed his face and then looked over at Halling and the wagon. "I need to get him out of there so I can set his leg and find the radio. Any ideas?"

He glanced back to see that the wolf was gone, only to see it sitting over beside the vith. John was a little surprised the animal didn't seem upset or spooked with a wolf so close. The vith! John slapped himself in the forehead, immediately regretting the action. "The vith, of course. Well, duh, John." He climbed to his feet and walked over to the animals, keeping one hand on the wagon or trees for support. "I have no idea if you're really here or not, but thanks."

John unhooked the vith and then worked him around where he could tie the large animal to the wagon. He worked the ropes so that they went over the rockfall and would lift up on the wagon and not out. He wanted to take no chances of hurting Halling further. Once everything was in place, he gently urged the animal forward, hanging onto his harness for support. Slowly, but surely, the wagon began to lift. Once he thought the cart was high enough, he stopped the vith and secured the wagon to two nearby trees with some extra lengths of rope he'd found scattered among the supplies.

"Halling?" he called, kneeling beside the unconscious man. He touched Halling's cheek and then patted it when he got no response. "Halling, I need to move you."

Halling's eyes fluttered open and he took a moment to focus on John. "What?"

John smiled, glad to see that Halling was conscious and fairly lucid. "I have the wagon propped up and I need to get you out from under it. I know moving you is going to hurt, but let me know if you think I'm doing more damage."

Halling looked around and seemed to comprehend what was happening. "How did you do that? You are supposed to be resting."

"It's all right, the vith did all the work. All I did was hook him up. Now let's get you out of there so I can tend to that leg. I'll apologize ahead of time for how much this is going to hurt."

Halling took a deep breath and nodded once. "I am ready."

John started to stand, but only got halfway up when the vertigo hit full force, bringing him back to his knees. He put one hand on the ground to steady himself as he waited for the spinning to stop.

"Colonel? What is wrong?" asked Halling, his voice tinged with worry.

"It's okay, just a little dizzy. It'll pass." John realized his words were starting to slur and he hoped Halling didn't notice. When his head cleared, he stood up again, a little more slowly this time. Bending over to grip Halling under his arms, he carefully pulled the injured man out from under the cart. He winced at the groans coming from the man. Laying Halling down, John went back to search for the med kit Beckett had insisted they bring. He tried to push the throbbing in his head to the back of his mind as he crawled around in the dirt.

"Found it," he said to himself as he grabbed the med kit and staggered back to Halling. Dropping to his knees, he felt along Halling's leg until he found the distorted area in his lower leg. "Sorry," he said when Halling moaned. Getting to his feet, he leaned against a tree for a second before looking for straight sticks.

Several minutes later, John returned with what he needed and proceeded to splint Halling's leg. With his energy beginning to wane and the concussion playing havoc with his systems. John took twice as long as normal to complete his task. Once finished, he took one of the blankets and placed under Halling's head to cushion it.

"How are you holding up?" John asked.

"I am fine," said Halling, but his face told a different story.

John looked in the med kit. "There's one more morphine injection in here if you need it."

"No, I need to remain clear headed. Have you found the radio yet?"

John reached around behind him and snagged one of the canteens. "No, haven't really looked for it yet. I'll do that in just a minute. For now, how about some water and maybe a Tylenol? It's not as strong as morphine, but it may take the edge off."

"Yes, a Tylenol will be good. Dr. Beckett has given them to us before."

John gave Halling the pills and then helped support him so he could take them and drink some water. When he was finished, John gently eased him down. "If you're okay, I'll look for the radio."

Halling nodded. "Yes, and then you must rest."

John chuckled as he closed the canteen. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"Your care was entrusted to me and I have failed."

John looked at Halling for a second before leaning forward and placing one hand on his arm. "No, Halling, trust me, you haven't. I saw something the other night, something rather unpleasant about myself. I won't pretend that I'll stop being who I am because it took me a long time to get this way. But I'll try to be better about seeing when I need help and letting people give me a hand. You just may need to remind me ever so often."

Halling smiled. "I believe we can do that."

John nodded once and then groaned as his hand went up to his head. He waited a few seconds until the throbbing went down a notch and the dizziness subsided. Rolling onto his hands and knees, John crawled back to the wagon and began sifting through the dirt and leaves. It was almost ten minutes later when his hand felt the familiar shape of the radio and he sighed in relief. Edging backwards until he was out from under the overturned cart, John sat back and hooked the radio over his ear.

"This is Sheppard, is anyone out there?"

The radio crackled with static, but no voices answered. John removed the device and shook it, trying to free it from some of the dirt that may have worked its way in. Replacing it, he tried again.

"This is Sheppard, can anyone hear me? Carson? Teyla, McKay, Ronon?"

The radio crackled again and then cleared. _"Colonel, this is Dr. Beckett. Are you and Halling almost back?"_

Sheppard sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. Doc, we've got a problem. The vith got spooked and the wagon turned over. Halling's leg is broken and the wagon isn't exactly in traveling shape right now. We need some help."

There was a few seconds of silence in which Sheppard began to fear they had lost contact, before Teyla's voice came on the radio. "_John, do you know where you are?"_

John looked around and shrugged his shoulders. "On a hilly, rocky slope with scattered trees? I don't know."

"Halling raised one hand as he lifted his head a few inches. "We are about four hours ride from the settlement, almost to the resting place. Teyla knows the direction we took."

John nodded. "Teyla, Halling says we're about a four hour ride from you and you know the direction. We aren't far from the resting spot."

"_I know the area. There should be a landing place for the jumper nearby. We will be there shortly."_

"_Colonel, it's Carson again. Have you splinted Halling's leg and does he have any other injuries?"_

"Yeah, I finally got him out from under the wagon a few minutes ago and that was the first thing I did. I don't think he's injured other than that." John watched as Halling shook his head.

"_I hesitate to ask, lad, but what about you?"_

John noticed the wolf, standing partially hidden by a tree, staring at him. "I . . . hit my head. Think I might have a concussion, but I'll be okay til you guys get here. Other than that, just bumps and bruises for us both."

"_Hang on, John, we are on our way."_

John smiled at Teyla's reassuring voice. "We'll be here." He turned to Halling and received a small nod.

"You should rest now, colonel."

"Yeah, in a minute. Let me unhook the vith first." He used the wagon to pull himself slowly to his feet and stood swaying for several seconds. Holding onto the overturned structure, he made his way around to the animal and unhooked it. Leaning against its back, he led the animal over to a tree and tied it back up. When he turned around to head back to Halling, a wave of dizziness overtook him and he found himself lying on the ground. Rolling over to his back, he let his eyes drift closed. He was so tired.

Something wet moving across his face brought him back. He opened his eyes to find the wolf licking him and instinctively pulled away. The wolf sat down and watched him as he rubbed his face and studied the animal.

"Just keep remembering that we're friends."

The animal made no move and John found himself drifting off again, only to be awaked by the wolf again. This time when he opened his eyes, the canine nudged him in the arm with his snout.

"What?" he said irritably.

The wolf pawed at his arm again. "Okay, okay, I'm up. Geez, I still say you're worse than McKay." John pushed himself up until he was sitting. "Guess I'd better give you a name since you keep popping up. How about Shadow? You kind of remind me of a German Shepard I had once." After a few seconds he got the rest of the way to his feet and went haltingly back over to Halling. The Athosian's eyes were closed, but opened slightly at the sound of John's movement.

"Colonel . . . who were you talking to?"

John hesitated and looked around. The wolf was nowhere in sight. "No one Halling, just . . . no one."

John checked on the injured man's leg. Satisfied, he leaned back against the nearest tree, exhaustion completely overwhelming him. He knew there was nothing else he could do but wait for their help to arrive. He felt himself drifting off and remembered that he should probably stay awake. Somehow he didn't care right now. He was just too tired.

A pressure against his leg caused him to pull his eyes open to see the wolf settled on the ground beside him. He reached out and stroked the animal, stopping to scratch behind its ears. Laying his hand on the animal's back, he closed his eyes. "I don't even care if you're real or not any more. Thanks for watching my back."

oOo

"They're over here!" called Teyla, kneeling between Halling and John. Both men were asleep or unconscious. Carson hurried over to kneel beside Halling while Rodney stood behind him.

"Only Sheppard could get himself in a mess like this," said Rodney as he began to pace.

Carson spent a few minutes looking over Halling, during which the man opened his eyes. "Doctor Beckett?"

"Aye, Halling, just be taking it easy. We'll have you out of here in no time. It looks like the colonel did a good job with your leg."

Halling gave a small, groggy smile. "Yes, he did. Is the colonel all right?" He tried to lift up and look around, but Carson held him still with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I'll just be checking on him next. Now lie still." Carson got up and moved over to John.

"Well? Is he okay?" asked Rodney, still pacing nervously around, casting furtive glances toward the overturned wagon.

"Give me just a minute Rodney," said Carson as he tapped John on the cheek. "Come on colonel, wake up for me now."

John's eyes slowly opened a crack and he moaned. "Shadow?" he whispered.

Rodney froze in his tracks and looked fearfully at Teyla and then Carson. "Shadow? Did he just say Shadow? He's brain damaged, isn't he?"

John tried to lift his head to look around. "Wolf, did you see him?" He lowered his head and closed his eyes, mumbling incoherently.

"He probably has a concussion, Rodney, so he's bound to be a little disoriented. We need to get him back to Atlantis so I can make sure there's nothing more severe."

"Maybe he's not so disoriented," said Ronon, kneeling in the dirt beside the wagon. "These look like wolf tracks." He looked up from the ground to the surprised faces of his team. "And they look pretty fresh."

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

**HAUNTED...part 27**

John heard voices. Familiar voices. He was content to simply listen to the warm hum of sound and to feel blanketed in warm comfort. Shifting a bit, he realized he was on a soft mattress instead of the hard ground. Which set off a tiny flutter of panic. "Halling!" He meant it to be a shout but it came out as more of a croak.

"Easy, Colonel." Carson's soft brogue wafted over him as gentle hands held him still. "Halling is just fine, as are you."

Blinking hard, John managed to focus on Beckett. He turned his head, wincing as pain stabbed his temples and going still when nausea rolled over him. He must have made a noise of distress because Carson was suddenly easing him upright and a basin appeared under his chin. But after a few minutes of gagging, John waved a hand to let Carson know he was all right. He was eased back down and a cool cloth stroked over his face. It felt like heaven.

After a moment he opened his eyes again and, if he kept his head still, the pain was bearable and the nausea didn't hit him. "Is Halling here?" John asked, his voice still little more than a croak.

"Take a sip of water first," Carson entreated, holding a glass with a straw in it.

"Better," John said, after a few tiny swallows. "Halling?" He knew he was being like a dog with a bone, but he needed to be sure the man was okay.

Carson chuckled. "He's fine. You did a nice job of splinting his leg. I put a cast on it and kept him for observation and he went back to the mainland just a few hours ago. I'll send someone to check up on him in a few days."

John felt relief wash over him. "Good. I'm glad. So...when can I get out of here?"

"Funny." Carson made a face at him. "For the record, you've been out of it for three days. The overexertion wore you out and your concussion didn't help matters any. But..." He held a hand up to silence any reply John was about to make. "You're doing better than expected, Colonel. Now that you're awake and lucid, you can eat and build up your strength and you might make it back to your own room by the end of the week."

"Since I've kinda lost track of time, how many days would that be?" John prompted. In truth, he wasn't in any rush to get out of here. He wanted the catheter out ASAP, but he was happy to be warm and safe at the moment. Besides which, he hadn't forgotten about the lesson Shadow had tried to teach him. Maybe a better way to put it was that he had absorbed the wisdom the wolf had attempt to impart.

Carson smiled at him. "Two days if you eat well and rest."

A snort came from behind Carson. "Rest? That's all he's been doing!" Rodney exclaimed. He stepped around Carson and moved to John's side. "Sleeping Beauty didn't rest as long as you have."

"Hey, Rodney." John wasn't the least bit insulted. He was happy to see the scientist.

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla had appeared beside Rodney, her eyes dark with worry for him.

"I'm better," he replied.

Teyla patted his hand. "I am glad. And I wish to thank you for taking care of Halling. He hopes to visit you soon to impart his own gratitude."

John started to shake his head but thought better of it. "Tell him we're even. We helped each other."

"The Seevala helped?" Teyla guessed, looking pleased.

"Yeah, it was...educational," John replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. But he was determined to be honest about what had happened and about what it meant to him. He looked at each member of his team, which included Ronon who had drifted over silently, then he locked eyes with Beckett. The Doc had put up with a lot of crap from him in the past few years. "I kinda had an epiphany," John said softly.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. What epiphany? That you shouldn't keep flirting with alien women?"

John glared at McKay for a moment, then he continued with his point. "I realized that sometimes I need help and that it's okay to need help. Even if I don't like it." And that was harder to say than he had expected.

"You're not superman, Sheppard," Ronon stated.

"Where did.." John broke off, remembering how he himself had introduced Ronon to the trilogy starring Christopher Reeve. "Good point, big guy," he conceded.

Teyla leaned into John, carefully touching their foreheads together. Pulling back she said softly, "I am pleased that the seevala was successful. Not everyone connects with a guide, Colonel. So not everyone can make such a journey."

The image of Shadow popped in John's head. He owed his guide a lot. "I'm glad I could." He felt his eyes drifting closed then everything faded away into warm darkness.

OoO

Two days later, John made it to his room. He didn't argue with Carson about staying in bed and resting. He let Teyla tuck him in during her shift, then he listened to her sing the songs of her ancestors until he fell into a dreamless sleep. Ronon took the next shift, and John didn't fuss about having a keeper when he showered. He wasn't thrilled when he needed Ronon's help to finish getting dressed, and he grumbled about taking another nap, but he felt a lot better when he woke up and he even managed to eat half the dinner Ronon brought him.

Rodney had pulled the night shift this time, and he came prepared with his laptop, movies and a chess board. John accepted the bag of chips and opened them to start munching, then he opted for playing chess over watching a movie.

As Rodney set up the board he asked, "Who's Shadow?"

"My spirit guide," John said around a mouthful of chips.

"A wolf?" Rodney prompted. "Because you asked about a wolf on the mainland. And you mumbled about it while you were out of it a few times."

John shifted the pillows behind him and got more comfortable. He then locked eyes with Rodney and told him the whole story about Shadow and his journey and how the wolf had kept him awake through his concussion. When he finished he figured Rodney would shake his head at him and scoff, but instead Rodney offered John the option to play first.

After making his move, John said, "So you believe me?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" Rodney studied the board then made his own move.

"Because it's not very scientificy," John countered, moving another rook.

Rodney shrugged. "The wolf prints Ronon found beside you are scientific-y, enough for me," he stated. "Now are we going to talk or play?"

John chuckled. "What? You can't multi-task? Are you afraid I might be good enough to beat you?"

"There's no one on Atlantis good enough to beat me, Colonel," Rodney firmly stated. He made another move then pinned John with a glare. "And I'm so sure of that I'm willing to bet on it."

"You're on." John rubbed the chip crumbs off his hands and focused on the board. He made his next move then waited for McKay.

But Rodney just looked at him.

"What?" John prompted.

"What are we going to bet?" Rodney countered.

John had forgotten about that part. "Right. Um...loser has to do whatever the winner asks for one week."

Rodney rubbed his chin as he considered it. "Sounds good. Only nothing humiliating."

"Why? Worried you're going to lose?" John grinned at his friend and watched him fidget.

"No, I'm not worried." Rodney made his move then folded his arms over his chest, looking smug. "I was just looking out for you. Oh...and the bet doesn't go into effect until after your back on your feet."

John nodded. "Fine...if you win. But if I win you start first thing in the morning. Deal?" John held out his right hand."

Rodney took it and shook it. "Deal. Now play."

They both fell silent, concentrating only on the board and their respective moves. Twenty minutes later, John was grinning as Rodney paced around the room, cursing and almost literally tearing his hair out.

"It's not possible!" Rodney exclaimed. "No one here can beat me! No one! Zelenka has tried dozens of times! You cheated!" He stopped pacing to point a finger at John.

"Two out of three?" John offered, feeling generous. And certain of his ability to kick McKay's butt.

Stomping back over to the bed, Rodney nodded. "Fine. No more cheating!" He waggled a finger at John then reset the board.

When Elizabeth stopped by to check on them, John was asleep with Rodney's Queen loosely clenched in one fist. Rodney was at the side table, head propped on folded arms and snoring.

Neither heard Elizabeth tiptoeing about to set aside the chessboard and drape blankets over them both.

"Boys will be boys," Elizabeth whispered, as she slipped out the door. And the smile on her face lasted all the way to her room.

**THE END...of part 27**

_**Going out of town tomorrow and I don't know much internet access I'll have, so I'll post the last part today. Enjoy!**_


	28. Chapter 28

**Note: **Yes, it's true. There is an end to this story and you've finally made it. Thanks for all the encouraging reviews and for hanging around so long. We hope everyone has a fantastic new year!!

**HAUNTED - Epilogue**

John sighed in contentment as the jumper began its descent to the mainland. It felt good to be flying again and to be completely released from Carson's care. He'd gone back on active duty one week ago, with no more check-ins pending. Even Kate seemed happy with his progress the last few weeks. Accepting her help had been the hardest pill to swallow, but he'd been surprised at how painless it was when you just relaxed and talked with her instead of fighting it and trying to hide everything. They had even had an off-world mission yesterday that had been unusually easy and pleasant. No one had gotten upset or tried to kill them this time and they had discovered a very tasty meat to trade for that was very similar to pork.

"Right over there, that little clearing. That's where we landed." Rodney was pointing to a small clearing just off to the right. They were now just above the trees and John headed for the indicated field, landing the ship smoothly a few minutes later.

"Why are we here again?" asked Rodney as they lowered the back hatch.

John smiled, Rodney's impatience making everything seem so normal. "I told you, I just want to have a look around. I don't remember much about what happened. Beckett says it's probably due to the concussion. I thought if I saw the place, it might jar something."

Rodney kept pace with John, walking silently for a few minutes. "You want to look for that wolf, don't you?"

"No, that's not it. I just want to see the place and maybe . . . well, I might keep an eye out for Shadow, er, the wolf. You sure none of you saw him?"

Rodney shook his head as the reached the area where the wagon overturned. "No, not a hair. Although, like I told you, Ronon did see some tracks that he thought belonged to a wolf."

John stopped and looked at the place where the cart had trapped Halling. For a second, he saw the Athosian lying on the ground and felt a tremor of fear at their situation, and then it was gone. He took a deep breath, remembering that they were rescued and that neither of them had been seriously injured. They had been lucky.

He suddenly looked up at a flash of movement in the trees, but saw nothing as he scanned the forest around them.

"You know, you're different now."

John looked around at Rodney, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, different?"

Rodney shrugged his shoulders and looked at the ground. "I don't know, different. You're . . . quieter, you know. You talk to Kate . . . you talk to Carson . . . heck, you even talk to me."

John studied Rodney for several minutes, the quiet becoming uncomfortable for both men. "Is this a problem?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I mean, you did tell us you had this epiphany and I guess in light of what you saw, I can understand the change. I just . . . it takes some getting used to, you know?"

John shoved his hands in his pockets. "You want me to ask Halling if you can do this seevala jouney thing?"

"Hell, no!" said Rodney forcefully. "I like me just the way I am, thank you very much. Besides, can you really see me sitting shirtless in a hot, dark cave hallucinating about wolves? I think not. Seems more like a barbaric warrior thing to do. Maybe you could take Ronon to your next journey."

John laughed. "Somehow I don't see him doing that either. Sometimes I have a hard time believing _I_ did it. I guess that's just a testament to how desperate I was." John sobered as he looked back up at his friend. "Look, I still don't know how much was real and how much was in my mind, but I do think I learned from it."

Rodney looked away, glancing nervously around the area. "Well, I guess if this means you'll take better care of yourself and let us help you occasionally, you know, when you need it, then I'm glad you did it. It's just a little unsettling at first to have you so . . . cooperative. You're usually such a major pain in the butt."

John grimaced. "Thanks, Rodney. What a nice thing to say."

Rodney smiled smugly. "Hey, just call 'em like I see 'em." Rodney's radio beeped and he reached up to tap it. "McKay here."

John walked a few feet away as Rodney began explaining something over the radio. He sat down under the tree where he and Halling had waited, imagining he could see the scuff marks from their time here. Feeling like he was being watched, John looked up to see the wolf standing near his feet, staring at him. Blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things, he reached out his hand toward the animal.

"We're still friends, right?" The wolf watched for a few seconds before walking forward where John could stroke his fur. After a few moments, he lay down with his head in John's lap.

"Is that . . . is that a wolf?"

John twisted his head at the sound of Rodney's voice, softer than he ever remembered hearing it. "You can see him?"

"I'm not blind, colonel, so yes, I can see him. Is it . . . is it safe?"

"I think so."

Rodney slowly slid down the tree to sit beside John and then tentatively reached out to pet the wolf. The animal lifted his head abruptly, causing Rodney to pull his hand back like he'd been burned.

"Colonel?"

John rubbed under the canine's chin. "It's okay, Rodney, just give him a minute."

Rodney sat staring. "You're petting a wolf."

"Yeah. Cool, huh?"

Rodney shook his head. "No, you aren't listening, you're sitting here under a tree _petting a wolf_."

John nodded as he leaned his head back against the tree, moving his hand to scratch behind the wolf's ears as he once again rested his head in the colonel's lap. "Hey, do you think Elizabeth would let me keep him?" He looked hopefully at Rodney for a second before they both shook their head and said, "Nah."

Rodney looked at the animal for a second before tentatively reaching out his hand again. "I'm more of a cat person," he said as the wolf sniffed his hand. When the animal lowered his head back down, Rodney began to pet him, carefully at first, but then with more confidence. "Cool."

John grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I know. _This_ is very cool."

THE END


End file.
